


The Asshole in Apartment 508

by walkingivy



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Epic Friendship, Gen, I know nothing about cars, I miss Glenn so much, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2019-11-21 13:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18142601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkingivy/pseuds/walkingivy
Summary: When the apocalypse hits, Glenn and Daryl are joined at the hip, and no one understands their relationship since they all can see that Glenn is cheerful and helpful and friendly, and Daryl is a racist asshole.





	1. Now - T-Dog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsukimei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukimei/gifts).



> I miss Glenn so much. I refuse to write anything for this fandom without him in it.

It’d been six days since they’d set up camp in the quarry after watching the bombs fall on Atlanta. They followed Shane because he was the only one who seemed to have any inkling of what to do, even if it only ever seemed to be in response to problems. People are thirsty, so he trucks up water. People are hungry, so he organizes trips down to loot the vehicles. People are scared, so he sets up a watch. As a result, the group worked less like a well-oiled machine and more like furniture bought from IKEA with missing instructions. Still, T-Dog has no intention to complain. He can’t imagine being in charge of others when the world has fallen apart.

The news that they were nearly out of food isn’t surprising since they’d all been eating regular meals based almost entirely off what had been scavenged from other people’s vehicles. The news that Shane didn’t really have a good idea of how to rectify the situation wasn’t surprising either. What was surprising was the consensus to take a small group into Atlanta to check out the situation. No one had risked it so far, but they were running out of options. Shane thought that part of the refugee camp might still be functional, and they could gather supplies from FEMA there.

Andrea was the first to volunteer, tucking a pistol into her pants that they were all reasonably sure she couldn’t use. T-Dog sighed and agreed to go with her, unwilling to let someone else take on such a dangerous task by herself on his behalf. Jacqui surprisingly volunteered as well, saying that she had family that were heading to that camp and needed to know if there was a chance that they were waiting there. Morales was the last, though his wife seemed less than thrilled at the decision. Shane comforted them by saying they only needed to do a drive-by; check out the situation and stop only if it was safe. They didn’t even have to get out of the car if it looked too dangerous. In-and-out. Easy.

It wasn’t easy.

The center was little more than a crater. There were a few tents still standing, but the whole place was completely overrun. The geeks were drawn to the noise of the car and the brief idling by the site caused them to close in. Morales jerked the vehicle forward and tried to turn, but found even more along the next street and the next. Soon, they were piled all around them, clawing at the windows to get inside. There were so many that the car just sputtered and jerked at Morales’ desperate attempts to get loose and move forward. Andrea was white as a sheet, Jacqui was praying, and T-Dog was contemplating using his gun on himself before he could get ripped to shreds as he’d seen one of his friends go when they were making the mad dash out of the city. A window shattered. Andrea jumped into T-Dog’s lap, still kicking furiously at the creature trying to crawl inside.

And then there was the revving of a motorcycle engine. It was close by, but there was no way to determine how close with the thick throng of undead surrounding the car. A bolt slid home into the head of the monster making its way through the window, and it stopped moving, effectively blocking the hole. The engine revved again and then the motorcycle took off, prying a layer of geeks off of the car and coaxing them into following the new noise.

It wasn’t enough. There were too many corpses enticed by the living people inside the vehicle to be bothered with noise from a distance.  The car sputtered and sputtered and T-Dog had a sudden vivid image of human body parts gumming up the works beneath the hood. It probably wasn’t far from the truth.

“We’ve got to make a run for it. We’re faster than them.” Morales finally declared, voice tense.

“Are you nuts?” Andrea cried. “We’re surrounded.”

“Better now than waiting for more of them to show up.” Morales grunted. “Longer we wait, the more likely another window will break.”

“Get out on this side.” T-Dog suggested as they shifted into reluctant position. “Easier to fight them off from one side.”

T-Dog and Morales exchanged a look of trepidation before swinging open their doors. Several of the geeks crowded around the car were pushed to the side from the movement. They both immediately fired to clear a path, Andrea joining in a moment later once she’d worked out the safety on her gun. They inched forward in a small cluster, trying to get away from the surrounding monsters so they could make a run for it, but the geeks from the other side of the car had moved around and were now in the way as well. Behind them, T-Dog could see massive groups lumbering slowly towards the racket they were making.

And then, just as a geek was about to take a bite out of Jacqui’s arm, another living, breathing person appeared, stabbing the creature in the head with a fire poker and twisting immediately to take down two more. “This way!” The stranger shouted. “Hurry!”

T-Dog did not need to be told twice. They all bustled after the newcomer, dodging the undead as they sprinted across the pavement and slid into a building. It didn’t look all that secure, and they continued straight across the floor to a back door where a staircase led them up several flights to a roof. They all wheezed and gasped at the exertion.

“Thanks.” T-Dog breathed. “Would have been toast without you.”

“Can’t believe you fired your guns in the city.” The man frowned, peeking over the edge of the building to watch the number of problems quickly swell on the ground below. “We’ll need another distraction now.”

“Didn’t seem like we had much of a choice.” Andrea defended. “Who’re you?”

The man turned and looked a little sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck. He was Asian and wearing a red baseball cap and carrying a backpack and a sharpened metal rod that either came from a fireplace set or a fence. “I’m Glenn. We were just picking up a few supplies when we caught sight of your disaster.”

Introductions were passed around, and then Glenn assured them that they just needed to wait a few minutes. “Daryl just needs to lose his tail and then he’ll get another distraction going, and we can high-tail it to our truck.” Glenn illustrated the plan by pointing out the vehicle and making sure everyone knew where to run. There were several crates in the truck bed, and T-Dog didn’t relish the idea of sitting in the back without anything to protect them, but he supposed it was better than trying to run out of the city.

“You sure he even made it out of that mess? Can’t imagine a bike is the safest option down there.” T-Dog commented, feeling more than a little nervous as the crowd of geeks grew instead of shrunk.

Glenn shrugged. “It’s easier to maneuver.” He said it carelessly, like it didn’t matter one way or another, but T-Dog could see by the way Glenn search the streets and bit his lip that he was nervous.

T-Dog patted his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “It was really brave. Really brave of you, too, coming to get us.”

Glenn gave a half-smile. “Couldn’t just leave you there.”

“You got a camp?” Morales interrupted.

“Sort of. More like a place to stay.”

“How many people do you have?”

“Just me and Daryl, but we do alright.”

“You should come back with us.” Jacqui invited quietly.

Glenn gave a genuine smile at the offer, looking a little hopeful at the prospect and nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like that. Daryl’s not really a people-person, but he’ll see that there’s safety in numbers.”

“Just got to get out of here, first.” Morales reminded.

They waited on the rooftop long enough for T-Dog to begin to wonder if their rescue was, indeed, coming or if they should be developing a back-up plan. After a while, they sat down and chatted quietly. Glenn was an open-book, answering any question that came his way without a hint of duplicity. T-Dog thought it was pretty naive, but he also thought that it worked for Glenn and warmed up quickly to the young man.

Finally, the sounds of a returning motorcycle echoed off the buildings, and T-Dog followed Glenn to the opposing side of the building and watched as the rider approached.

“You know, I’m not sure it’s fair to complain about us firing a gun in a last-ditch effort to save our lives when you guys are driving around in one of the loudest vehicles you can get.”

Glenn snorted out a surprised laugh before covering his mouth. “Touche. But, to be fair, the bike was less a mode of transportation and more of a back-up escape plan should shit hit the fan.”

“Well, it’s certainly done that.”

Glenn was signalling something in large sweeping gestures, but Daryl didn’t respond in any way, just kept riding past them, turning swiftly in a nearby intersection and headed further away from them. T-Dog saw a few of the geeks stumbling after him, but the majority remained where they were. He certainly hoped that wasn’t their whole plan. He hoped that Daryl hadn’t decided to cut his losses, either, but a glance towards Glenn suggested that he was completely comfortable with the turn of events.

A minute later, a car alarm started blaring, bouncing and resounding off the buildings and gaining the attention of probably everyone for several blocks, alive and dead. As the herd of geeks drained away, T-Dog finally felt like there was a decent chance of making it out of the city. He did not intend to go back if it could be helped.

After the majority of the creatures had lumbered past, Glenn led them back through the stairwell to the front of the building. He looked around and then nodded at them to follow as he sped across the concrete and practically leapt into the blue and gray truck. The keys dangled in the ignition, and he wasted no time in turning it on as everyone else hopped into the back. Before any of the geeks could redirect to the new noise and action, they were on the move. Morales opened up the window in the back of the cab so he could talk to Glenn and pass along driving instructions, but Glenn already seemed to have a destination in mind.

Outside the edge of what could properly be called city, T-Dog caught sight of a figure slouched against a support beam smoking, motorcycle propped up beside him. Glenn slowed and then parked the car, leaning out the window to talk to his friend. T-Dog couldn’t imagine an individual more opposite to Glenn than the brooding redneck.

“These folks are camped up at the quarry. They’ve invited us to stay with them.” Daryl made a dismissive ‘tch’ sound, but Glenn didn’t seem put off by it. “It’ll be nice to have more people for watch and protection.”

Daryl grunted and jerked his head towards the truck bed. “Shit ain’t gonna last long sharin’ with a whole mess of people.” T-Dog first thought he was gesturing to them, but then realized he meant the crates stuffed in between them. They were FEMA aid kits with first aid supplies, blankets, and a decent stock of food. Perhaps the trip was worth more than two new people. If Glenn and Daryl did intend to share their supplies, they’d be in much better condition. “Shoulda left them an’ taken more crates instead.”

“Knew you’d see it my way.” Glenn responded cheerfully. T-Dog figured Daryl’s comment must have been some sort of off-color joke, otherwise that’d be a pretty asshole thing to say. Of course, Daryl already seemed a bit like an asshole. “You want to grab our gear now or go together later?”

“I got it.” Daryl replied, kicking off without another word. T-Dog wondered if there was a way to invite just Glenn back with them and leave his surly friend behind.


	2. Before

Daryl Dixon was an asshole, Glenn decided within one minute of meeting him. His first sight of the man was as he was moving into Apartment 508, directly on the right of his own, and making his way up the stairs with two decent sized boxes stacked on top of each other which came to just under his nose. Glenn had probably been ahead of him most of the way up to the fifth floor since the elevator was out of order for the third time that month, but he hadn’t heard his footsteps or labored breathing. Glenn had finally located his keys which had slipped into the lining of his coat pocket and unlocked his door when Daryl hefted his boxes onto one hip so he could unlock the door approximately six feet away. 

Daryl was wearing what looked like a leather vest with a red plaid undershirt that had had the sleeves torn off and a pair of worn jeans with holes and a fade that could only have come from usage and not any sort of style. He was well built, particularly in the shoulders and biceps, which Glenn would have thought the ripped sleeves were designed specifically to accent this vanity, but the clearly self performed hacked-short hairstyle suggested there was very little to do with vanity in his appearance. Aside from the boxes, a large, lumpy black bag was thrown over one shoulder and a crossbow of all things strapped to his other shoulder. The effect was some sort of cross between a biker, a redneck and a junkie. All three of which were generally not the sort of people inclined towards his company and together spelled bad news, but Glenn was never one to judge a book by its cover, so he decided to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Glenn. I live right here, so I guess we’ll be neighbors.”

The stranger cocked his head in what may have been acknowledgement or possibly just to turn enough to get a good look at him before grunting and pushing open his own door. He didn’t give his own name.

“Uh, I see that you’re moving in. Do you need any help?” Glenn almost cringed at his own offer because he was already tired and the elevator wasn’t working and his new neighbor didn’t appear to be any sort of good company.

“Nah. This is everythin’.” The redneck spoke in a raspy mumble, his accent strong and unmistakably Georgian, though so few people in the city had a strong one that it was almost always an indicator of rural upbringing and, ironically, marked the speaker as an outsider. 

“Oh.” Glenn wasn’t sure if that was the truth, as moving places tended to involve more than two boxes and a bag, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to call him on it. “Well, if you need anything, you…” The door was shut in his face. “Know where to find me.”

Glenn rolled his eyes and returned to his own door, slipping into the apartment and resisting the urge to slam the door since the walls were thin enough that he’d discovered every detail of his last neighbor’s sex life through them, despite his best attempts. He sighed, not sure why he’d even tried to make contact with the stranger. They obviously had zero things in common aside from their address. All that Glenn had accomplished was to confirm that his first impression was, in fact, correct and the man was an asshole.

In fact, his opinion of his new neighbor only plummeted as time went on. 

Glenn didn’t want to or plan to interact with the man at all, but somehow, they always ended up in the same place. Their work shifts were nearly identical, despite the less than conventional hours the pizza store operated, so Daryl was often walking just ahead or behind him through the building in the mornings and evenings. Their parking spots were designated by apartment, so they also walked to the same spot in the garage where Glenn quickly discovered that the semi-biker look was not just for show. Daryl also adopted Glenn’s gym schedule, which only made sense given their similar work schedules, but was still annoying, especially since the redneck didn’t really seem interested in working out. Instead, he spent most of his time engaged in the television screen on the treadmill and strolling along slowly. Daryl also took up visiting several of the nearby coffee shops and stores that Glenn enjoyed more for perusing than spending his frankly nonexistent entertainment and food budgets. 

It was because he saw him so frequently that Glenn learned about Daryl’s two modes rather quickly, even if they both abided by the unspoken agreement not to look or talk to each other. The first mode was more of a default setting, where Daryl could be described as quiet, standoffish or antisocial, depending on Glenn’s mood. The second mode was when he showed his temper, where his neighbor dove wholeheartedly into brutal bouts of blistering fury.  He’d yell and shout scathing remarks that were more often than not, on point, if one were to completely disregard the ad hominem racist, sexist, and homophobic slurs that were slathered over his arguments. He’d glare like he could make it hurt and the rasping growl in his tone made him sound almost feral, particularly coupled with the way he’d shift his weight and pace. Glenn hadn’t seen him hit anyone yet, but the way he clenched his fists in preparation suggested he’d probably been the star of many bar brawls.

When Glenn got several letters for his neighbor stuffed into his mailbox three weeks after he moved in, the Korean finally learned the name of the slightly terrifying man next door: Daryl Dixon. Several of the letters were from police stations and prisons and law offices, which didn’t surprise Glenn at this point, not really, but did make him feel even more uncomfortable. Was he on bail awaiting trial? Had he been released and was on parole? If so, what had he done? Glenn thought about his wicked temper and his straining muscles and the way his hands naturally took to forming fists. He’d probably beat someone. Maybe he’d been a hitman. Or perhaps he was a lowlife that hit his wife and kids before he’d been kicked out of the house. 

Glenn didn’t know why the police were contacting him, but it somehow made the endless quiet from next door unsettling. He knew from the previous tenant that the floor squeaked something awful and even the television on low volume would bleed through the walls, but Glenn heard nothing, even when he knew that Daryl was home. Did he just sit in one place all evening or had he memorized the squeaky boards in order to avoid them? Glenn thought about how he was nearly silent in the halls and on the stairs and decided that the hitman theory might have some merit. He wondered if the crossbow was a signature weapon of any known hitman. Then again, the police knew him and a murderer wouldn’t be allowed to just wander around as he pleased, would he?

Shaking his head to clear away the thoughts and taking a deep breath to dispel the anxiety, Glenn scooped up the mail that he desperately wanted to read and marched out his front door. He’d just slip it under Daryl’s door really quickly and skedaddle before he blew this whole thing out of proportion. 

Glenn very nearly ran into Daryl as he was going to unlock his front door. Daryl jerked backwards and twisted out of his way to avoid any chance of collision, looking at Glenn warily, like he was somehow the threat. Glenn quickly shifted so there was more distance between them and held out the clump of papers. “Sorry. I was just going to give you these. They somehow ended up in my mailbox.” 

Daryl took them and glanced down as if to verify the statement before nodding in lieu of any thanks and opening up his door. “Wait here.” 

A brief moment of paranoia bubbled up inside him as Glenn considered if Daryl was going to retrieve a weapon and dispose of him for taking his things or knowing about his correspondence. He looked longingly at his open apartment door that he could lock three different ways, but stood his ground. It was stupid to listen to his imagination as it ran away with him. Sneaking a look into the open door in front of him, Glenn found that the place was clean in a very empty way as opposed to actually tidy. Perhaps he hadn’t brought any more than the few items he’d carried up the first day.

“Got one of yers, too.” Daryl approached with remarkably quiet steps despite wearing boots that appeared as though they should clunk just standing in one place. Glenn accepted the single white envelope that was held out to him.

“Thanks.” 

Daryl looked at him like the word was foreign and given the frequency at which he used it himself, Glenn thought it wasn’t too far from the truth. Daryl just shrugged awkwardly before closing the door in his face. Again. Glenn frowned at it a second before leaving. 

Weird guy.

It took another three weeks before they interacted again.

Glenn’s car wouldn’t start. 


	3. Now - Shane

Glenn and Daryl had been in camp for over a week now, but it only took about five minutes for Shane to decide that he really didn’t care for Daryl at all. He’d seen his sort of folk in the station plenty of times before the world went to hell. Dixon was the sort of redneck trash that seemed to be of the impression that the law didn’t apply to them and thought they were too good for the rest of society even though they were happy to dwell in run-down trailer parks that could just as easily be mistaken for a landfill and do nothing but live off of government handouts. Sooner or later they always got dragged in for getting drunk or high or both and starting a bar brawl or something. If not that, then they were arrested for beating on their wives or kids. 

Shane already had one of those to deal with in the form of Ed Peletier. Ed was almost certainly slapping his wife around, but unless she would actually admit it or seek his help in some way, Shane’s hands were tied. You couldn’t help those who didn’t want it. And if he did something about it, like kick him out or beat Ed’s face in like he wanted to, Ed would take Carol and Sophia and leave, and they’d be the ones suffering for it. 

He’d bet good money that the situation between Daryl and Glenn wasn’t any better, and if he thought for a second that Glenn wouldn’t follow Daryl into exile with that damn devotion of his, Shane would have kicked the stupid redneck out already, successful hunter or not. He’s seen the temper Daryl keeps barely in check and how he lashes out with vicious words and terrible slurs. Hell, he still calls Glenn ‘the chinaman’ even though everyone else now knew he was Korean. Shane hadn’t seen Daryl strike out at him yet, but he figured it was just a matter of time before Glenn wasn’t able to calm him down. Sure, Glenn didn’t wear the bruises that Carol’s got, but that didn’t really mean much in cases like this. 

Shane growled his frustration and shifted on the seat as he kept watch while Dale finished sleeping. He was probably spending more concentration on his own people than keeping an eye out for outside dangers, but he didn’t think Dale did any different.

At the moment, he was watching Daryl and Glenn as they heated up something for breakfast. Their campfire and tent was parked further away from everyone else, which, really, Shane didn’t mind. He did not need to know first-hand whether they were actually fucking. The jury was still out on that one, though the whispers had been around camp since they got there. The unlikely pair spent virtually all their time in camp together, completing chores side-by-side instead of trading off and lending a hand to each other whether one was needed or not. They did their own laundry, made their own camp, cooked their own food, and washed their own dishes. Daryl hunted by himself mostly, and Glenn greatly prefered to make solo runs, but they only seemed interested in having each other as backup if needed.

At dinner, Glenn would drag Daryl with him to the communal fire pit to eat with the rest of the group, and the young Asian would chatter on and on while Daryl would remain completely silent. At one point, he even stole something from Daryl’s plate. Shane half expected him to get stabbed with the fork Daryl was brandishing, but the hunter just stole something from Glenn in return. Glenn would eventually start talking about improvements to the camp and to security, which were all apparently suggestions that Daryl had made to him but never once mentioned to anyone else. Shane couldn’t be sure if the ideas were actually Daryl’s or not; he never seemed invested in the camp, but they were good ideas, nevertheless, and Shane started implementing most of them. Early warning systems, traps for the geeks outside the perimeter, 24 hour guards, daily perimeter sweeps, gun training and evacuation plans were all set into place. Shane had to admit that they were in much better condition now than before. Still didn’t mean he liked the redneck any more.

Daryl and Glenn were now in an argument over something. He didn’t bother trying to get closer to hear because he knew that sooner or later Daryl would erupt and there would be shouting. Maybe not this argument, but Shane had set him off frequently enough to know the sort of unmasked hostility that would spill out. He clenched his jaw. It was a real shame that Glenn was naive enough to think his conduct was okay. Maybe he could just talk to Glenn about it. He wasn’t any good with conversations about feelings, so maybe he could get Dale to say a few words. Glenn seemed to like him well enough. 

And then the explosion happened and Daryl was shouting while Glenn couldn’t seem to get a word in edgewise. “And what kind of booksmart chink is dumb as shit ‘nough to lose his fuckin’ gun in the middle of a goddamn run?” Glenn said something else that Shane couldn’t make out from the distance, but Daryl didn’t stop in his tirade. “That ain’t the fuckin’ point!” Glenn finally stood and backed out of the situation while Daryl continued to hiss at him. In the end, Glenn just walked off while Daryl kicked and flustered around his campsite. Before Shane could do a thing, Daryl chucked something, whacking Glenn in the back of the head with precision before stalking off towards the woods. 

Glenn rubbed at the back of his head, glancing down at whatever had been thrown at him, but unconcerned as he continued on his way, apparently ignoring or oblivious to the stares.

Shane realized that in his distraction, he’d missed Dale’s appearance until the older man greeted Glenn. “I hate to get involved in other people’s business…” Dale started.

Andrea came over with a slightly disturbed look she was attempting to mask with a grin. “You love it.” She corrected Dale with a playful jab.

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that. It’s not right.” Dale continued. 

Glenn shrugged. “He’s just worried about me. Besides, I should’ve known better than tell him about that close call on my last run.”

“You’re making excuses for his bad behavior.” Dale said gently. “And he’s escalating. He threw something at you.”

“It was a pinecone. It didn’t hurt.”

“For now. We’re your friends, Glenn, and we’re having a hard time understanding why you tolerate that sort of behavior.”

Glenn chuckled like he thought their line of questioning was absurd. “He saved my life. More than once. I think he’s entitled to be a little caustic.” 

“The point is,” Shane interrupted from above, sick of dancing around what should be obvious to the smart, capable young man he was quickly learning to rely on, “He’s a prejudiced, racist, redneck asshole who treats you like shit, and you’re too good for him, regardless of whether he’s saved your life.” Shane wanted to add that if that was what they were seeing in public, it left some pretty unsavory mental images about what might be going on behind closed doors, or rather closed tent flaps, but knew better than to bring it up.

They finally seemed to have gotten through to him, but not to the effect they were hoping. Glenn’s expression soured and his tone hardened. “Daryl may talk shit, but he’s a good man, better than anyone gives him credit for, and if you can’t see that, you’re the ones who are prejudiced.”

Glenn turned sharply on his heel, ready to walk off, but Andrea grabbed his elbow in a firm grip and tried once more. “Hey, we’re sorry. We’re not trying to gang up on you or Daryl.” Shane didn’t think that was remotely true, but it got the Korean to stop and turn back to them. “It’s just that sometimes good people can do bad things and terrible people can be benevolent. And sometimes we’re too close to something to really know what we’re looking at. We’re just trying to tell you what we’re seeing.”

Glenn ripped his arm from Andrea’s hold and scowled at her, pissing fury in a way Shane had yet to see from him. They’d certainly struck a chord there. This was why you didn’t get involved in spousal abuse cases when they weren’t ready to accept help. “Then look harder.”

The conversation was over, even if there was a chance of getting through to Glenn because Daryl had suddenly appeared at the edge of the woods with a rabbit dangling from his hand, having obviously been checking traps and not hunting as Shane had suspected. He looked remarkably calm compared to his earlier annoyance with Glenn, but Shane still didn’t want to leave Glenn unattended with him so soon, so he followed the young man as he stalked back to his campsite and started picking up gear and shoving it into a backpack. 

Daryl’s eyes flickered over to Shane, but completely dismissed his presence in favor of talking to Glenn. “Sup?”

“We’re leaving.” Glenn grunted shortly. “Today.”

Eyebrows raised, Daryl still seemed relaxed. “Why?”

“They don’t respect us and what we do for the group. We’d be better off on our own.” Glenn jerked his head at Shane who folded his arms over his chest and refused to feel awkward about standing next to their campsite and hearing Glenn’s criticisms.

Daryl’s knowing gaze ran over Dale and Andrea by the RV, briefly across Shane and then settled back on Glenn. “You mean they don’t respect me.”

“They called you a racist asshole!” 

Shane half expected Daryl to blow up, but he didn’t seem to care at all. It was almost like he and Glenn had suddenly decided to switch temperaments. “So? Ain’t nothin’ new. Don’ matter what they think.” 

“You’re not a racist! I wouldn’t be with you if you were.”

Daryl smirks a little, eyes crinkling up like he was laughing, like Glenn had said something hilarious. There was a pause and Shane waited to see if Daryl would laugh, waited to see if he actually knew how to laugh. He didn’t laugh. “Noticed ya didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout me bein’ an asshole.”

Glenn sulked, stood up straight and looked Daryl right in the eye. “You’re not an asshole.”

“Don’ go ruinin’ my rep, man.” Daryl’s eyes flickered briefly towards Shane again before concentrating on Glenn. He tossed the dead rabbit on a log to deal with later and threw his crossbow back over his shoulder. “Come on, Fleet Feet. Gonna need help haulin’ the big-ass deer I saw droppin’s of outside of camp, and yer the only one who ain’t so loud as to scare it off.”

Glenn and Daryl ultimately decided to stay with them, and Shane supposed he had Daryl to thank for diffusing the situation, as odd as that sounded. It didn’t mean he liked him any better. The next few conversations with Glenn were strained, but it didn’t take long before the incident was mostly forgotten. Shane kept an eye on their interactions for anything odd or problematic, but kept his mouth shut for the time being. 

A few days later, he found both odd and problematic as he was keeping watch on the roof of the RV again. Shane blinked at the scene before him, then blinked again, his brain refusing to accept what he was seeing by Glenn’s campsite. Glenn was standing with his back towards Shane and most of the camp and Daryl was kneeling in front of him working at his belt. Glenn shifted awkwardly and looked around, saying something to the other in a voice that was much too quiet for Shane to catch. Daryl’s hand was on his hip now, clearly preventing Glenn from moving away as he wanted to, with his head leaning well into the other’s personal space. Shane blinked again. There was no way Daryl would just up and give Glenn a blowjob in the middle of camp, right? It was early still, but there were a few other people up and moving about. Shane stood up. Should he stop them? Warn the children away? The fuck was he supposed to do with this shit?

A minute later, Daryl sat back on a log and picked up his discarded breakfast plate to finish his meal. He made a dismissive shooing gesture to his friend and threw a middle finger up at Shane without looking, like he knew that he’d been staring at them the whole time. Glenn turned and even if he did have a dopey smile on his face, Shane must have been mistaken about the events because even they could not have possibly finished that quickly. He was gratified to see that Glenn’s clothing was in order as he trotted over towards the RV. “Looks nice.” Dale said cheerfully. 

“Yeah. Daryl’s been working on it for a couple days now. He’s a whiz with a needle.” Glenn paused and frowned. “Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

Shane leaned over the edge of the RV to see what they were talking about. Glenn had a new leather holster strapped to his belt that was housing the gun he usually toted around in his waistband. Shane huffed. That certainly explained a lot. 

“Secret’s out since you showed off the shoes he patched up.” Dale laughed conspiratorially. Shane remembered the new shoes because it was after the first attempt to talk some sense into Glenn about Daryl, and Glenn had paraded the shoes around like they exonerated his boyfriend from all accusations of wrongdoing. “Honestly, I was picturing him duct taping them shut when he offered.”

“Me too.” Glenn chuckled. “It’s what I tried doing until he said it would kill my traction, and I wasn’t allowed to die from something so stupid as slipping when I ran.”

“Did you need something?” Dale asked.

“Oh, was just wondering if you had maybe some snaps or I guess a button or something? The goal is to keep the gun easy access but not easy to lose.”

Dale and Glenn went into the RV where their voices were too muffled to make out clearly, and Shane sat back down in his chair. So Daryl could be nice when he put his mind to it, and he was valuable by subsidizing their food with fresh meat. He was useful and probably would be sticking around. Shane didn’t have to like it, though.


	4. Before

Glenn wished he’d waited to turn on his car until Daryl had left. Like usual, his neighbor had been a couple paces ahead of him on the walk to the garage, and was now bearing witness to the travesty that was Glenn’s car as it coughed and choked and made all sorts of noises that he hadn’t even known a car engine could make. But it did not turn on.

Face heating up, Glenn plopped his forehead down onto the top of the steering wheel and allowed himself to loiter in the first stage of grief for his vehicle. This could not be happening. He couldn’t afford to fix it, and he couldn’t do his job without it. He’d just give it a minute and try again, and it would turn over and everything would be fine.

There was a tap on his window, and Glenn peaked out at the well-muscled chest and leather vest that was practically pressed up against the glass in the small parking space. Thankful for once that the windows were manual, Glenn cranked his down, and angled his head so he could see Daryl’s face. 

“Pop the hood.” 

Glenn didn’t hesitate to comply, yanking on the tab and hearing the latch let go. It didn’t matter if Daryl actually had a clue what he was doing; there wasn’t anything valuable left in the car to break. Once Daryl was in front of his car, Glenn slid out of the driver’s seat and came around to look as well so he didn’t feel like the douchebag who sat in his car when someone was trying to help him.

Daryl’s expression was very nearly comical as he gazed under the hood, and Glenn choked down the snort of laughter at the sight, reminding himself that Daryl was trying to help him. Daryl looked up at him with no small measure of horror and disgust, and Glenn rubbed at the back of his head awkwardly. 

“I don’t really know much about cars, so I was following some youtube videos on how to fix it the last few times I had this problem. But I didn’t always have the right parts and some of them you have to order from a specific shop, which would be too expensive, so I had to come up with some alternative solutions.”

“Lost cause.” Daryl responded with a tight frown. He seemed to have gotten over his shock and was now leaning in and prodding things with some skepticism. 

“I can’t afford to replace it right now is the thing.” Glenn added sheepishly. 

Daryl glanced at him briefly out of the corner of his eye and shrugged. Glenn had no idea what that meant until his neighbor flipped open the green satchel strapped to his chest and pulled out a couple of tools before leaning back over his car. Glenn wasn’t sure why Daryl was carrying around those tools, but he took it as a good sign that he probably actually knew what he was doing, better than Glenn certainly. He didn’t offer to jump start the car, but Glenn wasn’t sure if that was because the battery in his motorcycle wasn’t powerful enough or if it the battery wasn’t the issue. 

Glenn hated standing by doing nothing, so he did what he normally did when he felt awkward and unleashed his mouth. “I was planning to get a new car several months ago, but my last roommate was such a problem that I ended up needing my own place, and now my rent eats up just about every cent of my paycheck. So I can’t really afford a new one right now, and every time I have to sink any money into this clunker, I get further behind on my efforts to save for it. And it’s not like I can just go without a car. I mean, I’m willing to, but my job literally requires it, so if I don’t have anything, then I’ll get fired and be even further into the hole.” God, he hoped he wouldn’t have to go crawling back to his parents for money again. 

After he’d finished speaking, Daryl looked at him again, but didn’t say one word in comment over his confessions or his situation. He didn’t seem to care at all what Glenn had to say. “Try it again.”

Glenn stuffed down any offense he might have had at the lack of response and darted to his seat, twisting the key in the ignition. It sputtered once before coming to life, and Glenn was positively gleeful at the usually very annoying sound. 

Daryl slammed the hood down and moved back to straddle his bike. Glenn quickly stood back up and thanked his neighbor for his help, but Daryl either didn’t hear him or didn’t think it warranted a response and drove away without so much as a glance in Glenn’s direction. 

Glenn tried really hard not to take offense because Daryl had helped him. He wasn’t obligated to help him, and he certainly wasn’t obligated to be nice about it. Instead, Glenn concentrated on how he could repay the generosity. In the end, he didn’t have the money to get him anything, or any clue as to what sort of gift Daryl would actually appreciate, so he brought home an extra pizza that someone had ordered but never picked up and knocked on his neighbor’s door.

For the first time, Glenn thought Daryl actually looked pleased, and he proceeded to pat himself on the back for his good thinking. The surly man had very nearly smiled before taking the pizza and shutting the door in his face.

Of course, whatever work Daryl had done beneath his hood in the fifteen minutes before work was not a permanent solution, and two weeks later, Glenn’s car broke down like clockwork.

Daryl was there again, like he usually was. He’d taken to waiting until Glenn pulled out before heading out himself. Glenn would have thought the gesture was particularly kind if he thought Daryl was that sort of thoughtful person. Secretly, he thought it might have just been waiting for an opportunity to laugh at his expense. Whatever the reason, Daryl was there and he looked under Glenn’s hood again when he couldn’t get his car to start. 

Glenn got out and stood beside his scary savior, looking at the mess underneath the hood nervously. He knew it was a near miracle the junker was still running at all, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t have the money he needed to fix or replace it.

After several minutes of fiddling, Daryl straightened, frown still firmly in place. Glenn felt a lump in his stomach at the absence of an instruction to start the car. “It needs repairs, doesn’t it? I’ve got to take it in?” 

Daryl snorted. “It needs to be melted down an’ recycled into somethin’ better. Ain’t gonna be able to jerry rig a solution this time.”

Glenn hung his head and sighed. “Fuck.” He slipped out his phone and dialed his coworker Anna who was the sort that wanted to help everyone with everything and was thankfully working his same shift that day. He would have excused himself, but Daryl was leaning over his engine again, and didn’t seem to give a shit what, if anything, Glenn had to say. So, he gave the lowdown of the situation to Anna and put himself at her mercy, thanking her profusely when she said that he could borrow her car to do his deliveries for the next couple days, but it couldn’t become a permanent solution. “Oh, I know. Can you ask around for anyone who wants to offload a few shifts? I just need enough to make a downpayment.” Glenn nearly cried at his own request. He wasn’t going to have spare time for at least a month. “I might be late, too. I need to figure out a ride in.”

At some point during the conversation, Daryl had gestured for the keys to his car, and Glenn handed them over. He dropped the hood and locked the piece of trash up, and then returned a moment after Glenn hung up his phone with a helmet, which he plopped on Glenn’s head with a tiny little smirk, before getting on his bike. Glenn stared after him like he was crazy.

“Come on. Don’t want to be late.”

Hesitantly, Glenn got on the motorcycle behind Daryl, and tried not to touch the man. It was, of course, futile, and the moment that got moving, Glenn clung to Daryl in terror. He drove too quickly and took his turns too sharply, but honestly, Glenn wasn’t sure if it was just the fear speaking and he was driving perfectly normally. He was too petrified to open his eyes. 

Finally, the bike stopped and idled for a bit longer than most of the trip, but Glenn didn’t open his eyes until Daryl elbowed him in the side. Glenn peaked with one eye before opening them both and nervously but hurriedly getting off the motorcycle. He handed the helmet back to Daryl, who had apparently been going without. “Thanks for the ride.” Daryl nodded and took off. 

“Wow. If I had known you were going to hitchhike, I’d have offered to pick you up.” Anna commented from the doorway as Daryl drove away. Glenn had no idea if she was serious or not. What kind of biker picked up hitchhikers?

“I didn’t. That’s my neighbor.”

“Looks dangerous.” Anna stated in a tone that was more interested than concerned.

Glenn rolled his eyes. Daryl probably got that reaction all the time from his bad boy bike gang get-up. His complete lack of social skills probably played right into that as well. “Nah, he’s all right.” Glenn realized as he spoke that he meant the words. He trusted Daryl to a certain extent. Enough at least that he didn’t even remember leaving his car keys with him, not that the car was worth anything anymore. 

By the end of his shift, Glenn had nearly forgotten that Anna’s car wasn’t his own. He was just about to re-enter the building and ask if she could give him a ride home when he spotted Daryl leaning against his motorcycle at the edge of the parking lot and smoking a cigarette. Relieved, Glenn trotted over with a hesitant smile. “You here for the pizza?” He asked with an awkward chuckle.

Daryl raised an eyebrow before thrusting his helmet into Glenn’s hands. He put it on and got on the bike behind Daryl again. He wasn’t sure if Daryl was driving slower and easier to make him feel better or if keeping his eyes open was the only difference from the trip this morning, but whatever the case, he did feel better. He was only minorly terrified this time.

The following day, Glenn decided before he left his house to just bite the bullet and ask Daryl for a ride upfront. He was friendly and tried to be unobtrusive about it as they walked towards the garage, but Daryl just grunted and ignored him, looking sort of angry. When they reached their parking spots, Daryl tossed him his car keys and took off without waiting for Glenn to make the attempt to start it as had become his habit. Glenn figured that maybe he’d surpassed Daryl’s inclinations to be nice. 

By some miracle, his car did start, and the worst of the noises had eased. Glenn blinked, turned off his car and checked under the hood. It was at that point he realized why Daryl had been pissy with him that morning. There was obviously quite a bit of work done on his car since they’d looked under the hood the previous morning. Daryl must have fixed it the night before while Glenn had been playing a video game and trying not to stress. Glenn wasn’t sure how Daryl managed it, but he was all kinds of thankful and impressed. Of course, Daryl drove off before Glenn could thank him.

At work, Anna is tickled by the story and suggests that taking him some food would be a good start. “What does he like on his pizza?”

Glenn shrugged. “I’m not sure. He didn’t complain about the sausage-pepperoni I gave him last time.”

“We’ll just have an accident later tonight.” Anna winked, already plotting how they could sneak off with some pizza. “Oh, and I spilled a bottle of soda earlier, too, all over the floor, so you should grab one of those on your way out.”

Glenn thinks he should probably feel guilty as he stowed his ill-gotten goods in his front seat on his way home, but he figured he wouldn’t be so strapped for cash if he weren’t so underpaid. Besides, it was a good cause.

Glenn drove home and wondered if Daryl liked video games and tried to brainstorm what else he could do to show his appreciation. 

It was probably just the pizza held out between them, but Daryl didn’t look so mean when he opened the door for Glenn later that night. Was he more relaxed or had he gotten better at reading the sharp expressions on Daryl’s face? Daryl raised an eyebrow expectantly after pointedly dropping his gaze at the pizza box.

Glenn fumbled his way towards coherency. “Thank you. For fixing my car. Again. I’ll pay you back for the parts or whatever.”

Daryl shrugged. “Weren’t nothin’. That car ya’ve got is garbage, and the parts I put in were trash. Won’t keep ya running more’n a couple months at best.”

Glenn shook his head, trying to get Daryl to see how much the act meant to him. Months would give him time to get something else in place, find another car and save up enough to get a downpayment. “I know you added parts. At least let me pay for them.”

“The parts were trash. They was jus’ throwin’ ‘em ‘way at work. Too worn.” Glenn realized that Daryl must actually work as a mechanic. It explained the tools he was carrying around and how he’d managed to fix the disaster that was Glenn’s vehicle. He realized he’d known him for months but hadn’t even known what he did while Daryl had known exactly where he worked. Daryl shifted his feet and eyed the pizza box like he was considering just grabbing it and ending this excruciating conversation. 

Glenn tried again. “Still, you’re a lifesaver. I want to give you something for the labor you put in. You shouldn't be working for nothing. It’s not like we’re…” Glenn wasn’t sure what he’d meant to say: friends? Close? But the way Daryl’s jaw was clenching and his hand was tightening on the door said that Glenn had definitely made a serious misstep, and he was just a few seconds away from the door getting slammed in his face. Again. Or maybe he’d even experience Daryl’s temper first-hand. That was a scary thought.

Daryl must have thought they were friends. Glenn tossed the idea around in his head rapidly. He’d assumed Daryl didn’t like him because he was abrasive, but he gave him a ride to work and had fixed his car twice, so maybe abrasive was just his normal state of being. The stack of possibly charitable actions got higher as he thought about Daryl waiting every day to make sure his car started before leaving for work himself, about letting Glenn ride on his bike even though he obviously had an aversion to being touched, about how fixing the car had obviously been meant as a surprise present. He didn’t know what Daryl was like at work or if he had any friends there, but he definitely didn’t have anyone else in his life at home. No one came to visit him ever, and if he had a phone, he definitely didn’t call people because that’s something he knew first hand could be heard through the walls. He literally spent the most time with or around Glenn out of anyone, unwilling or not, and that was kind of sad. And maybe it  _ was _ willing, and he timed his schedule at the gym and so forth for the company. Oh, hell. Daryl had been trying to make friends for a long time now in his own socially awkward and apparently horrifically shy way, and Glenn had basically just shot him down. 

Taking a deep breath, Glenn tried to backpedal and somehow assuage the overwhelming guilt creeping down his spine. “What I mean is, I really appreciate what you did for me, so I got you some pizza and soda as a thank you. I thought you might like to come over and watch some TV while we eat since you-” Glenn quickly cut himself off. Daryl had just started to relax again and Glenn was pretty sure he was too proud to appreciate anyone pointing out that he didn’t have a television or furniture. “Uh… seem to like watching TV. Then you’re not, uh, walking and eating, you know?” Glenn could tell that Daryl wasn’t angry, at least, and he knew he should probably wait for him to speak, but he jabbered when he was nervous, so he carried on. “I mean, I don’t know if you like video games or anything, but I’ve got a pretty nice setup if that’s something you’d be interested in, but you know, TV is fine, too. We could also-” 

Daryl cut him off, which was probably a bigger relief to Glenn than to Daryl. “I could go for some pizza.”

Daryl apparently did like video games, though it didn’t look like he made a habit out of playing them. Glenn waited patiently and quietly while Daryl worked through a quick tutorial and stole side glances at his neighbor sitting sprawled out on the couch like he was in his own home, leg hooked over the arm and furrowing his brow as he put his concentration into the game. He wondered if Daryl had ever played a video game before given his unfamiliarity with the format and setup. Maybe he was just playing because Glenn seemed to like it. And wasn’t that the kicker. Because for all of his scowling and growling and unpleasant words, Daryl really had been nice to him, pretty much from the beginning. 

Glenn suddenly wondered if maybe he was autistic or something and couldn’t do social cues and that was why the door had been shut in his face so often. He certainly didn’t seem to know the first thing about handling people. Daryl had stuck his tongue out in concentration before giving a brief exclamation of triumph. He didn’t turn when he asked, “Whatchew lookin’ at, Short Round?” 

Glenn redirected his eyes firmly to the screen. “Sorry.” 

“If yer thinkin’ I’mma put out after this, ya got ‘nother thing comin’.” 

Glenn’s eyes widened in shock and no small amount of panic as he turned to his companion on the couch. Did Daryl think this was a date or something? What was he supposed to do? He racked his brain, trying to think if he’d done something to warrant that assumption.

“Relax, kid, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with ya.” A smile had crept its way onto his face and there was nothing but amusement in the glance he passed towards Glenn. Glenn gave in to the sudden impulse to punch him in the arm, hard. “That all ya got, pussy?” Daryl responded with most of his attention still focused on the screen. 

“Uh, you want to play something else?” Glenn said, like the game was to blame for the awkwardness. 

Daryl gave him an assessing look before nodding and sitting back in his seat again. “How ‘bout the one that gives that weird recipe?” 

“Uh.” Glenn flicked through his list of games, trying to figure out which one he meant. Of course Daryl could hear his games. He knew how thin the walls were. “Not sure what you’re talking about.” 

“You know, it goes like, cake mix and flour and lemon juice and nine large eggs. Then all them fish shaped things. Ya played it fer like four hours last weekend.” 

Glenn frowned. He’d played Portal a bunch last weekend, but he didn’t remember any recipes. Of course, he’d been too busy trying to defeat GLADOS. “Oh, yeah, Portal. One of the cores does say that. I guess you know how many times I failed the boss battle, then.”

“I weren’t gonna say it.” Daryl muttered, snickering. 

Glenn got up and popped in one of his favorite games, appreciating the way the teasing eased the earlier tension. Glenn picked up his controller. He wasn’t sure if they were friends before, but he was sure that they were friends now, and the thought brought a smile to his face. “You’re going to love this game.” 


	5. Now - Rick

In retrospect, there were a lot of warnings he’d neglected to take heed of in his single-minded determination to get to his family. The rows of seemingly unending stalled and empty cars leaving Atlanta were a pretty big hint. The lack of reply on the radio as he drove towards the city was undeniably eerie. Even the complete silence aside from a few shuffling Walkers should have done the trick. But Rick had waited until he encountered a few hundred in one place and couldn’t get out to clue into the possibility that the city was completely overrun. 

Rick’s head was still ringing from firing a gun inside the tank, and he nearly dismissed the sound of a crackling voice on the radio as one more way his mind was berating him for being so stupid. Once the ringing cleared, though, Rick jumped onto the lifeline that was dangling in front of him. 

“Where are you? Outside? Can you see me right now?” He asked, trying to keep the tremors out of his voice, adrenaline still pumping through him from the repeated close calls.

“Yeah, I can see you.” The voice responded, sounding like an angel directly from heaven. “You’re surrounded by geeks. That’s the bad news.”

“There’s good news?” Rick couldn’t help but let a little flare of hope come to life beneath the disbelief.

“No.” The man said. Perhaps he wasn’t an angel, after all.

Rick wasn’t really expecting any different, so he didn’t hesitate to rest his life in this stranger’s hands anyway. “Listen, whoever you are, I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little concerned in here.” 

“Oh, man. You should see it from over here. You’d be having a major freak-out.” 

Rick sucked in a breath. Apparently, he could get more petrified than he already was. “Got any advice for me?” 

“Yeah. Make a run for it.” 

Rick waited for a further explanation before voicing his complaints. He’d barely made it  _ into _ the tank. There was no way he was going to survive losing his only cover. Still, his resolve faded as he listened to the voice on the radio rationalize the decision. It was still risky, but time was of the essence before he lost his opening. 

Throwing open the top of the tank, Rick charged, firing his weapon for clean, clear headshots as he bolted down the street towards the alleyway. A young man was waiting for him there, raising his arms and shouting, “Not dead!” as Rick automatically pointed his gun. They peeled down the alley, and Rick used his last bullet just as they reached the ladder, following the stranger up the rungs and blissfully relieved that the Walkers seemed to be struggling with the climb. 

They panted as they stopped on the first platform they came across, the Asian insulting him soundly for being a dumbass, and Rick taking it because he couldn’t argue with that sentiment. He was just glad that the newly dubbed Glenn had decided that karma was a good enough reason to stick his neck out for said dumbass. 

The ladder seemed to go on forever as they worked their way up to the roof, and then Glenn led him across several buildings before climbing down an access hatch. “You the one that barricaded the alley?” 

“Not that one. We did a couple early on, so not as many geeks can get through, but it’s mostly too dangerous now. Someone else must have had the same idea.”

Glenn jogged through the empty building, nervously checking from side to side as he moved and broke through the next exit, already leading them into another alley. “Four in the alley.” Glenn spoke into his radio, not stopping for confirmation from whoever was on the other end, which was apparently not coming anyway. As they neared the end of the staircase and saw two coming towards them from one direction and another two creeping nearer from the other, Rick wonder what Glenn’s plan was. He was out of bullets, and even if he weren’t, he didn’t want to fire now and lead more of the dead to their new position. 

Just as the Walkers were getting uncomfortably close and Glenn had taken one step backward, an arrow zinged past them, nailing the Walker closest to them between the eyes. The other was a few steps behind, and Rick watched in disbelief as Glenn bent and pried the bolt loose rather than attacking the Walker drawing alarmingly close to him. Rick nearly got involved before another bolt swept past them, over Glenn’s crouched form and into the other Walker’s head. Glenn grabbed that bolt as well before running for the door, letting the other two Walkers trail after them instead of stopping to put them down. 

A bow. Rick pondered as Glenn dragged him past glass doors with disturbing numbers of the dead building up and working to break through. His new friend led him up some stairs at a pace that was quick but seemed nearly leisurely after their previous race. A bow was a good weapon for the city. It wouldn’t attract Walkers like his gun had. And whoever was wielding it certainly knew how to use it if the previous demonstration was anything to go by.  

Rick stepped onto the roof just slightly behind Glenn to see that the man who had saved his life was being held against the wall by a set of burly arms belonging to one pissed-off looking redneck. “The fuck ya doin’ out there, idiot?” The archer, if the crossbow on his back was anything to go by, had a knife out that Rick was tracking like a hawk, but neither of his new companions seemed to give the slightest regard to.

Glenn chuckled nervously in the grip, smiling tentatively. “You saw that?”

“Drop the knife.” Rick jumped in, feeling that the already bloodied blade was alarmingly close to his new friend’s neck. He yanked his gun back out and cocked it as he pointed at the back of the redneck’s head. “I will not hesitate. I don’t care if every Walker in the city hears it.” Rick tried to ooze confidence despite knowing that there wasn’t one bullet left in his gun to fire. 

The archer snorted and didn’t put his knife away, but he did back off from Glenn, snatching the bolts from his grip as he went. He stomped several feet away, sat on a pipe and cleaned them. 

“He always like that?” Rick looked at Glenn who had straightened but didn’t appear at all scared as he looked back at Rick.

“Pretty much.” Glenn shrugged. “But Daryl wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“Maybe not intentionally.” Rick conceded mostly because he didn’t want to get into a fight about a statement said with so much conviction and not because he agreed with the assessment. “I just get nervous when people start waving knives around.”  

“Says the man who just pointed a gun at someone’s head.” Glenn commented, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s empty.” Rick confessed. “Wish I’d had a chance to grab my sheriff’s bag.”

“I suppose you had some spare ammo in there.” 

“Over 700 rounds assorted. Not to mention six shotguns, two high-powered rifles and a dozen handguns.” 

Glenn whistled. “Jesus. Maybe you should have risked it.” He then groaned, crossing over the roof to sit beside Daryl on the pipe. Rick followed him cautiously. Daryl didn’t so much as look up at him, and Glenn was trying to raise someone on his radio, so Rick stood awkwardly off to the side. 

“There’s more of you? The refugee center?”

“Yeah.” Daryl snorted. “They got biscuits waitin’ in the oven fer us.” 

“We’ve got a camp.” Glenn supplied far more cooperatively. “We’re here trying to get supplies. They can send someone to help us get out.” 

Scoffing, Daryl sent Glenn a pitying look. “Ya really think they gonna risk more lives on us? Think  _ Officer Tightwad _ gonna send someone in after a lost cause?”

“Shane isn’t like that.” 

“Shane Walsh?” Rick interrupted before the argument could continue, unable to believe what he was hearing. His best friend, his partner was alive? There couldn’t be that many cops named Shane in the area, right? When Glenn nodded, Rick took a step closer in excitement. “Is my family with him? Lori? Carl?”

“Thought that was his family.” Daryl muttered. Glenn elbowed him in the ribs.

“Yeah. They’re there.”

Rick didn’t know what to do with the sudden extra surge of energy. He wanted to jump and shout or fall to his knees. His family was alive. He reeled it in with some effort. “We need to get out of here.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Glenn commented. “But some dumbass shot up the place like it’s the OK Corral, and now every geek in the city knows we’re here.” 

Rick took the insult even though he thought it was a little unfair. Anyone would have done the same in his shoes to try and survive. “So we cross the rooftops like you did before.” 

Glenn shook his head. “Can only get us as far as I picked you up, and I don’t think that’s going to be any clearer than when we left it.”

“Can’t go over, let’s go under. See any manhole covers in the alley?”

Glenn darted across the rooftop to check, and Rick was left with Daryl who was giving him a contemplative look. Rick wasn’t sure what to make of him. His first instinct was to soundly categorize him as an asshole and leave it at that. He was negative in a way that was actively unhelpful and almost seemed to bully Glenn. But he also seemed protective of him, which was an odd combination. He’d reserve judgement until later.

“None. They must be on the street with the geeks.”

“Damn.” Rick rubbed his temples, trying to think of another way out of this mess. He had to think of something. His boy and his wife were waiting for him. “So, we have to get out of here without attracting their attention. We know they’re drawn to sound, and obviously they’ll attack if they see you.” Rick paused, brow furrowing. “How do they know not to attack each other?” 

“Smell.” Daryl responded after a minute. “We smell alive, an’ they smell dead.”

“Well, then. We just need to smell like them.”

Daryl seemed to follow his train of thought without elaboration and sat up straighter. “That could work.”

Glenn didn’t understand what they were talking about until Daryl spelled it out, and the young man looked nauseous at the thought. “If bad ideas were an Olympic sport, this would take the gold.” 

“Nah.” Daryl responded. “Hunters do this shit all the time to mask smells. These dumb, dead bastards ain’t smarter than wildlife.” 

“I’m more concerned about getting infected blood in my eye and turning into a geek myself.” Glenn retorted. “Or giving us away by barfing.” 

Glenn’s protests did not stop them. Twenty minutes later, all three of them were covered in Walker intestines and rotting organs, carefully trying to keep it off their skin and on the jackets they’d donned. It took two tries for Rick to start dismembering the man, and he was only able to go through with it because he didn’t know how else he was going to reach his family. Daryl was teasing Glenn for going a spectacular shade of green in a manner that was probably racist, but Glenn was far too preoccupied trying not to spill his lunch to care about the comment. Rick tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The construction vehicles generally kept the keys inside, so hopefully they would only need to make it to them. They just had to get through the mass of Walkers, climb over the fence and find a route without too many Walkers blocking their path. Piece of cake.

“You first.” Daryl growled at Rick as they neared the door, loading his crossbow and raising it.

“Daryl.” Glenn said warningly. 

“No, he’s right.” Rick interrupted to agree, surprised by how easily he could follow the archer’s intent. “It was my idea, and if it doesn’t work, it’s better if only one of us is in danger. Daryl’s crossbow is quiet, he can watch my back until we’re sure we’ll get through. Then you two follow.”

The plan was surprisingly effective, and the tension in his stomach slowly loosened. He could see Glenn out of the corner of his eye, but he had no idea where Daryl was, hopefully following a few paces behind and not trying to watch their backs from the door because as the rain started to pick up, their camouflage began to wash away. The Walkers leaned in closer and closer, and Rick could tell that their scent coverage had worn off. “Run!”

They ran, darting and twisting to avoid the clawed hands of the Walkers who all at once seemed to realize that they had imposters in their midst. They clambered over the gate just seconds before the first wave of Walkers knocked into it, slamming against the metal. Rick and Glenn looked at each other, both seeming to notice the archer’s absence at the same time. Rick stabbed a Walker that looked like it might climb the fence and pointed at a figure in the distance, running the opposite way. “There! What the hell is he doing?” 

Glenn had gone pale, his face etched in terror, and Rick had a sudden serious fear that his new friend might try to climb back over the fence after him. “He’s going for the gunbag. No way he’d just leave it after you talked it up.” Glenn moaned.

Rick grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from the fence and toward the truck. “He wasn’t even near us when we were talking.” Something was finally going their way because the cube van started first try and still had half a tank of gas. 

“Ears of a wolf.” Glenn froze in his seat as Rick stepped on the gas, already turning to open the door. “We can’t leave without him.”

“We won’t.” Rick snagged the back of his jacket, cringing as it slipped in the blood caked onto it while he slammed hard on the gas pedal to bust through the other metal gate. “We’ll circle around for him.” 

Glenn helped him navigate around a couple crowds of Walkers before they reached a relatively uninhabited area, and Rick pulled off, leaving the engine running. Glenn didn’t even put up a fuss this time, seeming to have gained confidence in Rick despite their rough initial encounter. Or maybe it was just clear that he was intending to use the car alarm to draw the Walkers away from Daryl. In either case, Glenn consented to drive the diversion while Rick quickly looped back in the cube van and looked for their companion.

He slowed as he passed a few bloodied masses on the ground, tentatively identifying his horse and a few Walkers that Daryl must have taken down as he ran as well as a couple he’d shot earlier. None of them appeared to be Daryl himself, but there was more than one body that was too mangled to really tell. 

Rick slipped out of the cube van as he reached the tank, looking around and hissing, “Daryl!” A stray Walker appeared, which he quickly put down with a crow bar he’d found in the van. He looked at the weapon appreciatively and decided he’d keep it, unless he found a blade longer than the knife he had on now. Rick took a few more steps around the tank. “Daryl!” 

“Glenn?”

Rick had no idea where Daryl had been hiding because he appeared silently behind him, gunbag slung over his shoulder and crossbow dangling in his grip. He didn’t look injured. “Driving the car alarm. He’ll meet us there. Come on, let’s go before anything else shows up.” Daryl nodded and climbed into the truck, scooting over to drive so Rick didn’t have to walk around, and taking off the instant the door closed behind them. Rick waited just long enough for them to clear the city. “The hell were you thinking?”

“Hardly any guns in camp. I only had the one an’ I gave it to Glenn.”

“And that was worth nearly dying?”

“Why don’t ya crawl down outta my ass? Ain’t gonna be able to protect yer family with just yer good intentions.” Daryl growled, taking his eyes off the road for a second to glare at Rick. “An’ it woulda been fine if it hadn’t rained.”

Rick sighed, and leaned back in his seat. Daryl had a fair point. And more importantly, it reminded him of what was waiting for him back at camp. On the other hand, if he was going to work with Daryl in the future, he needed to make sure that he wouldn’t go running off on his own without a plan. That sort of thing got people killed. He continued in a calm, measured tone. “You’re right. We should have prioritized the guns. And we could have, if you’d talked to me instead of going off on your own.”

Daryl snorted. “So’s ya could send Glenn instead? He ain’t expendable.”

Rick floundered for a minute before closing his mouth and staring ahead. Glenn obviously got sent on a lot of life-threatening excursions for Daryl to immediately jump to that conclusion, but more to the point, he’d attempted to head it off by doing the more dangerous task himself. He’d thought the gunbag was worth risking his life for because it would protect the camp, but he wouldn’t let anyone else try for it. Maybe he’d wanted to protect Glenn, but he’d also been protecting Rick. Daryl knew he didn’t have any bullets and was standing at his back with a loaded crossbow, but chose to make the run for himself instead of asking or forcing Rick to do it. Maybe the asshole attitude was just for show.

Rick turned back to Daryl. “You’re not expendable, either.”  


	6. Before

Glenn hesitated only a second before knocking loudly on Daryl’s door. Game nights with Daryl had become a weekly occurrence. Surprisingly, Glenn began to look forward to them eagerly and was sorely disappointed that he’d been too sick for the last one. He once even turned down an invite from another friend so that he could keep the informal evening sacred. 

Daryl didn’t answer the door, even when Glenn impatiently knocked a second and third time.  He’d heard the mechanic entering his apartment half an hour earlier, so the lack of response was unexpected. Glenn wondered for a few minutes if he was being ignored before knocking again. When there was again no noise from within, Glenn returned to his apartment and tried not to take the rejection personally. After all, Daryl hadn’t ignored him specifically; he probably ignored just about everyone that knocked on his door. At least, everyone that wasn’t Glenn on game nights. 

Daryl isn’t good at any of the games they play, but he isn’t a sore loser, either. He plays the games like they’re just games, and it’s surprisingly refreshing to sit together in companionable silence as they complete levels together rather than to compete and argue and brag as he often does with his nerdier friends. He once nearly forgot Daryl was there at all when his mom called to check in on him, and he chatted with her as he played for a good twenty minutes before remembering that he was being super rude and if she’d known what he was doing, he’d have gotten an earful. For what it’s worth, Daryl used the opportunity to kill his character a couple times.

But tonight wasn’t game night. Today was the first day he’d felt well enough to visit following some sort of awful flu that had him certain he was going to die for days. 

Glenn sat down at his desk, but before he flicked his computer on, he paused and thought about the silence next door. What if Daryl had fallen sick as well and that was why he hadn’t gotten up to answer the door? What if Glenn himself had gotten the other man sick? When Glenn was in the midst of making his own funeral arrangements, Daryl dropped off two cans of soup, crackers, aspirin, and cough drops, and then retreated before Glenn could properly thank him. He’s pretty sure that his neighbor doesn’t know how to handle being thanked. He’s also starting to wonder if Daryl had ever had a friend before.

Feeling a little embarrassed for what he likely knew was an overreaction, Glenn got back up and knocked on Daryl’s door another three times. When that proved fruitless, he padded to the back of his own apartment and got onto the fire escape through his living room window. He shared the platform with Daryl’s window but had always had the good sense not to look into it for either him or the previous tenant who was more than a little sex-crazy. Glenn chanced to look into the living room. It was barren of literally anything, and for a moment, Glenn wondered if Daryl had somehow managed to move out without him noticing. He didn’t seem the type to say goodbye, but the idea still stung as they’d just started becoming good friends.

Then Glenn noticed that the window was cracked and considered that Daryl might have left via fire escape. But where would he have gone? Glenn looked further down over the lip, like his neighbor might still be creeping down the twisting metal staircase before looking up at the next two floors where it connected to the roof, before placing his bets on up. 

Even though he’d gone up to the roof to find him, Glenn still managed to be surprised when he actually spotted Daryl on the rooftop smoking a cigarette. Subconsciously, he’d believed that Daryl must be too elusive to find on a whim. Yet, there he was, leaning against the railing that ran around the edge of the building, and looking down at the city. And even though he hadn’t moved or acknowledged Glenn’s approach, it went without saying that he’d already been detected and there was no going back. So, perhaps Glenn was acting a little paranoid by bestowing Daryl with superhuman powers in his mind, but he wasn’t prepared to dismiss the idea either. 

Sidling up to his neighbor, Glenn gave a small smile. “Hey. I didn’t know you went up here.”

Daryl shrugged. “Most days.”

Which probably explained why his apartment was an endless silence, now that he thought about it. He turned to face the rows of buildings and twinkling lights below. “It’s a pretty good view.” Daryl snorted and Glenn turned in time to see his mouth turn up in a brief scowl as he surveyed the streets below with now recognizable disdain. “You don’t agree?”

“Hate the city. Would rather stay in the woods an’ only come out fer smokes an’ beer. Only good thing society’s got anyway. ” 

“Oh.” Glenn muttered in the same volume, for once unable to even flounder out loud. Daryl smoked and Glenn looked at the scene in front of him in a quiet that was much easier than it used to be but far from comfortable. Finally, the question wormed its way from his mouth. “Why are you here, then?”

Daryl shrugged one shoulder, put out his cigarette and turned to lean his back against the railing. “My brother’s bein’ cut loose soon, an’ he’s gonna need some place to start fresh.”

“Oh.” Glenn repeated, looking awkwardly around, and wondering if he should poke around for more information or just attempt to commiserate. Was his brother in jail like it sounded or was it rude of him to jump to that conclusion? Maybe it just meant he was losing his previous job? How was he supposed to commiserate if he didn’t even know what Daryl was saying? “I’m going to have to get a second job.” Glenn blurted out. 

“That sucks, man.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully it’s just temporary. I was saving up to get a new car, or rather something a little newer or at least less broken.... But anyway, then I got dumped on with bills and had to take a week off from work, and there is no way that clunker is going to pass inspection, so I’ve got to come up with some serious dough to make a downpayment within the next two months.” Glenn let out a sigh and leaned against the railing himself. He’d been attempting to help Daryl feel better and somehow only managed to work himself up. “And I know I should just ditch the car and do a different job for a while, but I like driving. It’s like the closest you get to real freedom.”

Daryl rolled a cigarette between two fingers and eyed the Korean contemplatively. For a moment, Glenn thought he would offer the cigarette to help him calm down, but then he just tucked it back into a pocket on his shirt, another self-made tank top, and headed for the staircase, glancing over his shoulder as he went. “Grab yer keys an’ meet me out front.”

Glenn nodded mutely and the two of them plodded down the metal steps and crawled in through the adjacent windows to enter their apartments. Unsure of what they were doing, Glenn didn’t grab more than his keys, phone, wallet, and a baseball cap before slipping out of his front door and locking it behind him. Daryl was already there waiting for him and led him down to the garage in the sort of stillness that Daryl seemed to thrive in and gave Glenn the urge to spill secrets he didn’t even have. 

“Follow me.” Daryl declared as he swung a leg over his bike. “East on 20.”

Glenn nodded as he started his engine, familiar with the route, even if he didn’t drive out of the city much. He was glad for the information because he almost immediately lost his neighbor with a few sets of lights and didn’t catch up until they’d already passed a few exits on route 20. They drove for what felt like an exceptionally long time, easily over an hour, before Daryl put on his turn signal and slowed down for the next exit. The sun had just slid below the horizon and it was getting dark, but Daryl took the back roads with an easy familiarity that caused Glenn to fall quickly behind. Fortunately, there were only a few turns on the road and Glenn pulled up behind Daryl’s motorcycle at the end of a gravel driveway beside a mobile home sitting on the outskirts of a trailer park. There were already three trucks crammed into the driveway.

“Best ya wait here.” Daryl suggested, tugging off his helmet and making his way to the front door, barging in without knocking. Glenn rolled down the window to let in the gentle breeze while he waited.

A large white man with a fantastic beer belly followed Daryl out when his neighbor returned just a few minutes later, swigging from a can as he lumbered down the driveway. “Hood.” The man grunted loudly, and Glenn swept a quick glance at Daryl before popping it. The man snorted. “Piece of shit.” The stranger surmised with one brief examination. 

Daryl shrugged. 

“Two hundred.”

“Four.”

“Three, an’ only cuz Merle’s yer brother.”

“Three-fifty.”

“I’d be lucky to get that on scrap. Three-twenty.”

“Fine.” 

“Be right back.”

As soon as the front door closed behind the man, Glenn jumped out of his seat, eyes wide. “Dude! Did you just sell my car?” He hissed. 

“Won’t get that much anywhere else.” Daryl commented, sounding almost proud of himself.

Glenn took a deep breath. “What am I supposed to drive?” The words were barely out of his mouth when he found himself reflexively catching another set of keys. 

Daryl pointed to one of the trucks, medium sized with gray paint on the bottom and blue on the top. “Hop in an’ make sure he didn’t use up all the gas.”

Glenn’s brow furrowed as he moved to obey. “It’s yours?”

“Yeah, but you can use it fer now. I’m usin’ my brother’s bike anyway.” Glenn blinked in surprise before unlocking the door and sitting behind the wheel in stilted movements, half-expecting Daryl to say he was yanking his chain. The truck might have been as old as his own car, but it was clearly well tended to and started right up with none of the extraneous noises he’d come to expect in old vehicles. Daryl was just handing this over for him to use? His mind started to contemplate the possibilities. Without pouring money into the clunker, Glenn would finally be able to build his savings toward his next vehicle. He could finally stop getting yelled at over late deliveries when his car was acting up. He could stop lying to his parents about how well he was doing. 

The gratitude must have been showing on his face because Daryl was twitching uncomfortably as he looked in on the gas gauge. The gas tank was more than half empty, but plenty to make it back to Atlanta. “Thank you.”

“Weren’t even usin’ it, man.”

Daryl’s friend re-emerged from the trailer with a wad of cash tucked in his hand where the beer can had been. He snorted loudly when he caught sight of Glenn’s new position. “Gonna let the Chinaman drive yer truck? Prolly crash ‘fore ya even get to the city.”

“I’m Korean.” Glenn cut in with annoyance.

“Whatever.” The man grunted and tried to push the cash towards Daryl, who was quick to side-step. 

“Pay Glenn. It’s his car.”

The money placed begrudgingly in his hands felt like a much sweeter victory than merely correcting the racist on his heritage, and he marveled at the subtle way Daryl had orchestrated it. 

Glenn didn’t doubt that those sort of slurs would stick around even in Daryl’s vocabulary, but he also realized that it had been a long time since he felt Daryl meant for them to be offensive. He understood now that Daryl respected him, even if he wasn’t likely to come out and say it.


	7. Now - Amy

“I know that look.” Andrea in a disapproving tone, but there was a smile on her face. 

Amy smiled back, not even trying to deny it. “It’s just so romantic!” She whispered, glancing back at Rick for the twentieth time. Andrea might still be leery of the stranger, but Amy would take any happy story she could get her hands on. “Like something from a fairy tale. Waking up from a coma to be reunited with your wife and son. It’s so sweet!”

“More like a soap opera.”

Amy shrugged and grabbed her box of clothes, walking quickly beside her sister to the racks where Lori was already working. It didn’t matter what she said, Amy knew her sister was a closet romantic and found the story irresistible. A few moments later, Rick himself joined their little group, and Amy couldn’t help but pass a coy smile across to her sister. She discreetly jabbed her elbow into Andrea’s side, nodding her head away so that they could give the couple some privacy. Andrea just rolled her eyes and diligently worked on the last couple items until Shane came rolling into camp with shouts of water. 

Andrea darted away at Shane’s call, Amy following, her smile eroding. Andrea had impeccably lousy taste in men, and that in itself was enough evidence to give Shane a second, searching look. As far as Amy knew, Andrea hadn’t made a move on Shane, or expressed the slightest interest, but Amy knew her sister well and saw it coming like a train she was powerless to derail. Before, it wasn’t an issue. Shane was busy looking after Lori and Carl, and no one had really considered that they weren’t a family. But with Rick in the picture, Amy could see the train starting to pick up speed. 

“Mom!” A shriek of panic overtook the quiet rumble of camp and everyone was reacting just as swiftly as Amy’s heart started to race. She shared a glance with Andrea before taking off towards the racket, praying that none of the kids had been injured. “Dad!”

Amy trailed behind the group of men, coming around through the bushes to keep out of the way, but still be available if needed. She counted the children as they passed, darting towards their parents, and kept going towards the source of the commotion. She sucked in a breath as she laid eyes on the man knelt before a dead deer, ripping bloody muscle and tendons from its neck and stuffing them into his mouth like it was manna from heaven. No, not man, Amy corrected herself even inside her own head. That was a monster, a geek, what Rick called Walkers. It looked grotesque, but it was the squelching sound of masticated innards that caught Amy’s attention and sickened her. 

Rick, Shane, Morales, Glenn and Jim all beat on the dead man, and Amy watched on in horror, disgust, and no small amount of fascination. This Walker, the corpse of a man in fancy slacks and a tie, wasn’t the first she’d ever seen, but it was the first she’d seen up close. She gasped as Dale swung his axe and beheaded the man, the Walker. 

“That’s the first one we’ve had up here.” Dale said, huffing from exertion. “They never come this far up the mountain.” 

“Well, they’re running out of food in the city, that’s what.” Jim contributed. It took a moment for Amy to make the connection between food and people, not because it was a leap, but because her mind simply did not want to acknowledge it. In that minute, the bushes further in started shaking and Andrea instinctively swept out her hand to keep Amy back, to keep her safe, her other hand reaching back towards where her gun rested in her waistband. Shane crept closer, readying his gun, while the others prepared their weapons. 

But all of those measures proved fruitless as the form that appeared next was not a Walker, but Daryl Dixon. “Son of a bitch! That’s my deer! Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-barren, motherless, poxy bastard.” Amy wasn’t inclined to think that Daryl was any less dangerous than the Walker had been, quite the opposite, but she was reasonably sure the hunter wasn’t deserving of the same fate, even if he was an asshole. Daryl proved his nickname a moment later by soundly insulting Dale and his hat before collecting his arrows, and suggesting they eat around the Walker bites. Amy contemplated veganism.

The severed head abruptly cracked it’s mouth open, and Amy took a step back. “Oh, god.” She turned back towards camp, ignoring Daryl berating the group for not going for the brain, but halted at Rick’s call.

“Hold up, y’all.” Rick had a look of determination set across his face and his hands were braced on his hips. “If they’re running out of food in the city, we need to be more careful. We could have lost children today. Dale, get back on watch. Andrea, Amy, make sure everyone stays near the tents. No one goes anywhere else without someone who knows how to use a gun. Everyone else, we’re going to sweep the area and make sure there aren’t any others lurking about.” 

It was easy to fall under Rick’s command. Shane had been their unofficial leader up to this point, but he deferred to the newcomer, so no one questioned the shift in power. It helped that what Rick said made sense. They’d been too careless and it could have cost Rick his own son. Even Daryl, the obstinate bastard, heeded to his authority without question. 

Amy spent the next twenty minutes circling the tents with Andrea a step behind her, feeling like a diplomat explaining new regulations while her sister acting as some sort of body-guard. It didn’t help that Andrea mostly let her talk for them, capitalizing on the fact that there weren’t a whole lot of people willing to turn Amy down on anything. Most everyone was satisfied with a brief explanation of events, but there were exceptions exactly where Amy predicted them to be. 

“Don’t need no cops getting all in my business and telling me what I can and can’t do.” 

Before she could respond, Amy felt a hand on her shoulder drawing her backwards a few steps as Andrea stepped forward, straightening her back and staring Ed down. “We’re just letting you know what’s been decided. If you don’t like it, take it up with Shane or Rick. But I don’t see why it should bother you, Ed. You’ve got a gun, and you know how to use it.” 

Amy resisted the urge to slam her palm into her forehead. She had no idea why Andrea would always bait misogynists. It didn’t help anything. Amy would certainly not have felt inclined to remind Ed that he had a gun in his possession. In fact, she’d feel a whole lot safer if that was removed. 

“Come on.” Carol interrupted strategically with a tentative smile on her face, dragging some more clothes into a box and handing it off to Andrea. Andrea rolled her eyes but accepted the diversion for what it was.  “Laundry ain’t gonna do itself.” 

They helped Carol load up her car with all the laundry in the camp, and did people really need to change every day? They’d only just finished hanging things up to dry.  “Guess I’ll need to come along, then, keep a lookout for you ladies, seein’ how the cops don’t want you unprotected.” 

Amy gave Andrea a pointed look as they sighed and started making their way down the well-worn path towards the quarry while Carol and Ed drove the baskets down. “Look what you did.” 

“Oh, don’t go blaming this on me. He would have come either way. Not like him to give Carol a moment’s peace.” 

“Something’s gotta be done.”

Andrea shook her head. “I’ve handled these cases before. You’ll just make it worse for her if she’s not ready to leave. We’ll get there.”

Amy huffed, but dropped the topic, concentrating instead on not tripping over her own feet on the steep path. By the time they reached the edge of the water, Carol and Jacqui were already there, sorting out laundry. Amy couldn’t help the burst of laughter at seeing the additional faces. “How’d you get roped into this?” Amy cheerfully asked as she sat beside Glenn. “Thought only women got suckered into this lousy chore.”

“You know, I’m not even sure. One minute I’m helping Jim and Dale replace a radiator hose, the next minute, T-Dog’s dragging me down here.”

“Helping my ass.” T grumbled. “You wouldn’t know a radiator hose from a garden snake.”

“So how’d you get roped into it?” Amy addressed T-Dog, ignoring Glenn’s insulted complaints about learning. 

T-Dog’s eyes swiveled towards Jacqui, and he shrugged. “Force to be reckoned with.”

“I’m  _ not _ doing all the Hattie McDaniel work just because I’m a woman.” 

Everyone started to chuckle at the comment, and suddenly the work didn’t seem so much like work, with everyone laughing and more than a little splashing at each other, which provided a nice cool touch to the heat of the beating sun. On days like this, Amy missed AC even more than her phone and computer. 

“Problem, Ed?” Andrea asked, bringing Amy back to attention as she saw how the man had ambled closer and closer to the group, eyes squinting in suspicion and smoking his cigarette like he meant to be casual about it. 

“None that concerns you.” Ed sneered before turning to his wife. “You ought to focus on your work. This ain’t no comedy club.” 

Amy shared a disbelieving look with her sister, and that’s when Amy knew exactly what was coming next. She reached out to stop her, but Andrea was already on her feet, telling Ed off for sitting on his ass while everyone else was working, oblivious to Amy’s warnings. Ed was a bomb waiting to blow with a few wires loose and splayed already, and she was uncomfortably aware of his superior strength and weapons’ training. The basic safety training Shane had given them on their handgun wasn’t going to do much good against years of hunting experience. Glenn and T-Dog were standing at the ready and they might be able to handle their guns, but they weren’t crazy enough to use them. Amy wasn’t sure the same could be said of Ed.

Ed was beckoning Carol away as he insulted Andrea, and Amy’s heart clenched. Either her sister was going to provoke an attack now or Carol was going to face the consequences of this later. There wasn’t a good ending to this, she stood back paralyzed. 

“Why? So she can show up with fresh bruises later?” Jacqui challenged. “Yeah, we’ve seen them.” 

Ed just laughed and told Carol to come with him, and then it happened. He struck her when she resisted, and all hell broke loose. Glenn leapt at the man, tackling him backwards onto the ground and landing a solid punch to his cheek before getting thrown off and punched soundly to his face. Amy just thanked every god she could think of that Ed had left his rifle in the car when he approached to harass them and wasn’t reaching for his handgun. He didn’t need to. Glenn wasn’t the fighter Ed was, and he was smaller besides. He’d pinned Glenn and landed several hits before T-Dog dove in, shoulder-checking the bully off before attempting to restrain him. Ed got the better of T-Dog, too, taking a few hits before rolling them over and laying in on him as well. 

There was a distinct clicking of a gun safety that drew everyone’s attention, and Amy watched in awe as Rick and Shane appeared from behind the treeline, guns raised and aimed at the tussling pair on the ground. “Separate!” Shane demanded, taking a few steps forward. The pair jerked apart, panting while Glenn brought himself back to his feet and offered T-Dog a hand up. Once the action had subsided, the two cops lowered their weapons, but didn’t holster them. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Ed hit Carol. They were defending her.” Amy explained when no one else seemed inclined to comment on the situation. Her gaze slipped over to the older woman as she spoke, realizing that Carol was attempting to stifle her crying. God, this must be difficult for her.

Rick put his gun away and took several threatening steps forward. “Let me make this perfectly clear. That behavior will not fly here. If you ever raise one finger against your wife or daughter, or anyone else in this camp again, I will personally drive you down to Atlanta and leave you to fend for yourself without a weapon. Do you understand me?” Ed grunted something that Amy couldn’t make out, but the sneer on his face was offset by the fear in his eyes.  “And Carol and Sophia will be sleeping in Lori’s tent. I’ll share with Shane.”

Ed left, cowed, protests useless in the face of people who were evenly matched with him.

“Ah, crap.” Glenn moaned, his face was already starting to blossom a vibrant bruise around his eye. He lifted a hand and gentle poked at it before sighing. 

The mood was soured, but the laundry still needed to be finished, so they continued to work in awkward silence and stilted conversation. As the activity drew to a close, Amy suggested that she and her sister go fishing, lest they run into Ed again. It was rather ironic that Amy had never spent as much time with her sister before civilization collapsed. It’d taken four years for her older sister to follow through on the road trip she’d  promised for just the two of them, and now they were stranded hundreds of miles from their parents and family. Before they could take off for some well deserved peace and quiet on the lake, Glenn reappeared with a small bag that resembled a purse and an optimistic expression. 

“Do you think you could make this less noticeable?” He asked hopefully, gesturing to the deep purple mark on his face. 

Amy agreed, taking the purse and rifling through the meager supplies of cosmetics while Andrea continued to prepare their boat. She sat in front of the Korean as she tried to find something that resembled his skin tone, and took some comfort that unlike Carol, Glenn didn’t seem to know the first thing about hiding bruises. Amy didn’t know what would happen if Daryl saw it, but she’d do her best to prevent that. 

“Were there any more Walkers out there when you looked?” Andrea asked over her shoulder.

“Daryl got one, but it was pretty far from camp. Don’t know that it would have even come up here.” 

Amy frowned as she started to apply the coverup, easing up when Glenn flinched at the pressure. “Are we still safe here?”

Glenn shrugged. “Daryl would say we never were. But Shane and the new guy are starting to talk about moving somewhere more secure, too.” Glenn straightened, smudging Amy’s work. “Uh, but that might be on the downlow. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

Amy gripped his chin to stop his squirming, going back to work, as Andrea asked, “Where are they thinking to go? And when would we leave? People have a right to know.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I assume they don’t want anyone to start panicking before they have a plan ironed out.”

“And what is the plan?” Andrea insisted, boat ready and sitting down beside the pair, caving into the gossip. 

“Shane was talking about Fort Benning. Rick suggested the CDC.” 

“CDC’s close, and the military would protect it, right?” Amy asked hopefully.

“The military ain’t protectin’ shit.” Amy looked up at the unpleasant voice, an uneasy shiver going down her spine at how close Daryl had managed to get before any of them noticed. “They’re the ones that bombed the city.” She dropped her hands away from Glenn, but it was too late. Daryl’s face had tightened up in suspicion and he was rounding on them to get a good look at what had happened. She couldn’t understand how Glenn tolerated that man. He was practically a second Ed Peletier. “The hell happened to ya?”

“I started it.” Glenn declared, bravely. Amy’s eyes flickered to the brutish, racist redneck, half expecting a replay of the earlier exchange between Carol and her husband, and wondering why Glenn would defend Ed of all people.

“Bullshit.” Daryl glared, taking a menacing step forward to get a better look at Glenn’s bruised face. 

“He was protecting Carol.” Amy blurted out as she stood, catching Andrea reaching for her weapon again. God, she wished that Shane had gotten further along in their firearms training, but he didn’t want to fire a gun near camp and didn’t want to leave camp without a good defense. 

Daryl whipped around to face her, eyes narrowing, and Amy swallowed. Was he pissed at her now? But then Daryl was stalking towards camp, Glenn just a few steps behind him trying to talk him out of whatever he was planning to do. 

“Come on.” Andrea insisted, grabbing her wrist and heading back to camp on the main road, away from the irate redneck. Amy hoped Glenn would be alright as they sprinted straight for the little cluster of people arguing behind the RV. “Shane!” Andrea shouted at once. “It’s Daryl!”

Shane sighed. “What’s that bastard gone and done now?” 

Before they could explain further, there was a commotion and everyone was running towards one of the farthest tents where Glenn’s voice could be made out, and Carol was sobbing. “Jesus, just stop!”

It took both Shane and Rick to pry Daryl off of Ed’s form, and by that point, Ed’s whole face was a bloodied mess. Shane grappled with him until he’d gotten an arm under his neck and could restrain the hunter by himself. 

“Chokehold’s illegal!” 

“You can file a complaint.”

Daryl struggled for a moment before calming down, Rick stopping Glenn from going forward and crouching before the irate man himself. “I’d like to have a calm discussion about this. Think we can manage that?”

Daryl grunted, and Shane let him go. He fell forward and worked at getting his breath back while Rick continued, undeterred. 

“We cannot go around attacking our own if we want to survive, and like it or not, Ed is one of our own. So, I’m going to give you the same warning I gave Ed. You lay one finger on anyone in this camp again, and you’re out.” Rick sucked in a breath before seeming to ease off in his reprimand. “I don’t want to see that happen.”

Daryl looked him in the eye before tersely nodding and pushing off the ground to get to his feet. He scooped up his crossbow, which made Amy’s heart stutter, but didn’t seem to phase Rick, before stalking away.

“Uh. Sorry.” Glenn apologized, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Amy wondered how often he’d had to apologize for Daryl’s behavior. Probably a lot. 

By dinner, the incident was mostly forgotten in favor of revelling at their successful fishing trip. Amy was thrilled to be able to provide for the group, and basked in the praise, even promising to show Carl everything she knew about fishing as her father had taught her. Amy sat and enjoyed her dinner, feeling like she could relax for the first time that whole day without one or another catastrophe. It was especially nice listening to Dale tell his stories instead of him being sequestered atop the RV on watch as was often his duty.

It was so pleasant, that at first, Amy didn’t quite realize what had happened. One second she was complaining that Andrea was preventing her from being discreet as she left for the bathroom, the next, chaos. 

A bolt had flown right across their campfire and nestled somewhere among the trees. Rick was on his feet in an instant, weapon drawn and aiming towards the darkness, while Amy instinctively turned to find the origin of the shot. “Everyone!” He shouted. “Get inside the RV!” Shane, T-Dog, Morales, and Dale were quick to raise their weapons, the armed searching the treeline for danger. 

Andrea pulled Amy towards the RV, though it was much too late for her bathroom trip now. They ran ahead of the rest of the group hurrying for the protective vehicle until Amy felt a chill grasp on her arm. She shrieked, yanking it backward, trying to pull it out of the grip of the Walker that had lumbered from the shadows behind the RV. Its maw drew closer and closer to her flesh as she pulled and struggled. 

Its head exploded, splashing skin and blood over her and freeing her from the deathly grip. Amy looked up to see her rescuer. Daryl stood atop the RV, already moving on to the next target among the Walkers that had come around from behind. Glenn was beside him, facing the other way as he carefully aimed a shotgun. 

Andrea shoved her into the RV, the heavy press of people crowding in behind them. They hurried along to the back of the vehicle, crushed into a sightless corner by the anxious women and children of their campsite.

“You’re okay!” Andrea cried above the din, though it could have been a question or a statement.  “You’re not bit!” 

“I’m okay.” Amy assured before she’d even taken stock of her body and confirmed that she was, in fact, okay. 

Gunshots echoed into the night with inhuman snarls and all too human screams. Amy squeezed her eyes shut and waited for it all to be over.

 


	8. Before

It had been over a week since Daryl took care of Glenn’s latest car issue, and the Korean had yet to find a way to properly thank him. The direct approach was straight out. Daryl received genuine appreciation like most people might react to a home visit from the dentist. Glenn was also severely limited in his resources, so aside from presenting him with another ill-gotten pizza during that night’s gaming session, there weren’t a lot of options to return any of Daryl’s favors. 

He spent a lot of his driving time for work idly thinking about the best ways to show his gratitude. Most of them were somewhat unrealistic, like purchasing a gaming system to give him, but some were downright absurd, like covering the roof in an arboretum of sorts. He toyed with that idea the longest despite its impracticality because it was the only option that he felt one hundred percent confident Daryl would actually like. He hated the city, wanted to be in the forest, and had an affinity for the roof. Now, if only Glenn knew anything about planting trees, was given a bunch of saplings, and convinced the landlord that his idea was brilliant, he’d be all set. Of course, in his fantasy, the roof suddenly transformed into a fully grown copse of trees overnight so that Daryl could step into it like he’d just slipped past the last rack of clothing in a magical wardrobe.

Next, Glenn considered what skills he had that Daryl lacked. Mostly, he came up with social etiquette followed by a long list of unknowns, and while Daryl might sincerely benefit from some coaching in that area, it wasn’t exactly what someone would consider an appropriate ‘thank you’. The problem would be a whole lot easier if he knew anything about Daryl, but the man was an enigma.

“You still sick or somethin’?” Daryl grunted.

“Huh?” Glenn responded intelligently. 

“Usually ya finish this level with two lives to spare.” 

Glenn’s eyes swiveled back to the television screen where the words ‘Game Over’ were flashing with overly dramatic music playing in the background. “Uh. Right. Distracted, I guess.” 

Daryl cocked his head to the side. Most people might have inquired what was on his mind, but Daryl wasn’t most people. He waited all of ten seconds to see if Glenn planned to elaborate before dropping the topic like a lead weight, a relief considering Glenn didn’t really want to discuss his train of thought. 

Shifting in his seat, the mechanic pulled a cell phone from his pocket and held it out towards Glenn. The sight of a smartphone in Daryl’s hand was certainly unexpected. Glenn had mentally put him down as someone unlikely to have a cell phone, and certainly not a smartphone. He took the device and looked back at his neighbor for instructions.

“Think ya can make it work?”

Glenn blinked at the unexpected request. “What makes you think I know anything about smartphones?”

Daryl shrugged. “Figured you were the type.”

Glenn let out a disgusted sigh. “Because I’m Asian, I have to be a tech whiz?” 

“Nah.” Daryl squinted at him. “Ya got all this gaming stuff, ya gotta be better at it than me.”

Glenn resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. He was supposed to be finding a way to thank Daryl, not jumping to conclusions and insulting him. “Alright. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothin’. Least, I think it works. Boss gave one to all of us, some sorta bonus. ‘S what he says, anyway. No bonus in gettin’ a call from work on yer day off.” Daryl glared at the phone in Glenn’s hand like it was an alien egg about to hatch.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

“Make it… go.” Daryl gestured miserably. 

To be fair, Glenn tried heroically not to laugh as he powered up the smartphone, but he couldn’t help the way his mouth contorted during his efforts, or the snort that built up in his throat and escaped through his nose without consent. Daryl crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, but all Glenn could picture was his neighbor flipping the smartphone around and shaking it, trying to get the thing to function. Suddenly, in his head, Daryl was hiding behind a chair, poking at the phone with a stick like it was a rattlesnake that might leap up and attack him. 

“I’m sorry.” Glenn choked out as he started through the initial set-up. “I just… I thought you were this badass ex-con hitman, and you’re just a dork who’s clueless about technology.”

Daryl’s head jerked to the side, ignoring the tutorial prompts. Thankfully, he seemed more confused and disgruntled than offended. “The hell?” 

Glenn floundered for a second before just deciding to go for the truth. Daryl seemed the sort to spot a good liar four miles out, and Glenn couldn’t even manage to call in sick that one time he wanted to see a movie on opening night. “When I met you, you were carrying around a crossbow!” 

“I was carryin’ everythin’ I own, an’ I happen to own a crossbow.” 

“What for?”

“Huntin’. For food. ‘S how I grew up.” That did make sense, though Glenn thought most hunters used guns. “Ya jus’ assumed I was in trouble with the law, too?” Daryl’s tone was a little harder.

Glenn’s mouth flapped for a moment before his mind landed on the clues that led him to that assumption. “Like, all of your mail was from a prison or a police station.” 

“My brother’s there. Ain’t got no one else to get mail from.” 

“Oh.” 

Daryl turned so he was facing Glenn, and Glenn felt his face heat up in embarrassment at having said all those things to Daryl. He couldn’t look him in the eye, and instead focused on the phone in his grip. 

“So, let me get this straight. Ya thought yer neighbor was an ex-con hitman an’ ya invited him in anyway? Do ya have any sense of self-preservation?” 

Glenn winced. “I mean, I didn’t really think you were a hitman, just didn’t know what to think.” 

Daryl shrugged, turning away and closing in on himself. It was then that Glenn realized how unguarded he looked this whole time, and he felt guilty all over again. Glenn fumbled through the set-up process in a quiet that was even less comfortable than normal, cursing his malfunctioning brain to mouth filter. 

Daryl went home earlier than usual that night, not that Glenn could blame him for wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. He waited just long enough for the phone to be functional and the barest of instructions on its usage to be given before leaving without giving an excuse. 

Long after he’d gone home, the man was still on Glenn’s mind, creeping in as he tried to play another round of his game in single player, and drifting by as he cleaned up the kitchen, settling down on his chest like a boulder as he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. He sighed and rolled over, cringing at the squeal of his bedsprings because that only reminded him how thin the walls were. He didn’t know where Daryl kept his bed, or if he even had one, but if he were still awake, he would probably hear Glenn’s squeaky bed frame whining at his insomnia. 

His thoughts started out with just this uncomfortable, warm blanket of guilt at his own actions and behavior, which led to him considering all the ways in which he screwed up and if it’d been avoidable, which inevitably led back to the fact that he didn’t really know anything about Daryl Dixon except the few facts that had mostly come to light today and the uncomfortable conclusions associated with them. 

Despite his harsh demeanor, Daryl was kind-hearted and wanted to help. He’d gone way above and beyond what even normal friends would do to help Glenn out, acquiring extra parts that could be used for free, modifying them or reworking them until he managed to make an ancient, busted, uncared for car function again just because a virtual stranger was in need. It had obviously taken several hours and if Glenn had taken his piece of junk in, the cost of labor would have far surpassed the value of the vehicle. Not to mention loaning him his own truck indefinitely when all the other measures proved insufficient.

Daryl obviously wanted to make connections with people, or at least with Glenn. So why was he such a dick to everyone? He’d shut his door in Glenn’s face more than once, and couldn’t be bothered to carry on a civil conversation most of the time. He didn’t seem to know the first thing about being friendly. And it wasn’t, as Glenn was sure, because he didn’t understand how people worked. Quite the opposite. He seemed to be intentionally offensive in an effort to keep people at bay. And the only person who seemed to care about him in the slightest was apparently his brother who was currently locked up. He had an explosive temper that he wasn’t inclined to rein in regardless of who was around, but wasn’t, as far as Glenn could tell, violent. He just seemed intent on intimidating people. 

And then there was his response to Glenn’s absurd accusations. He’d been surprised that Glenn had thought he was a hitman, but almost immediately resigned himself to the idea and instead shifted his attention to the fact that Glenn had been careless with his own safety. And that was when the last piece of the puzzle slid into place and clarified the image. 

Daryl expected people to treat him like shit. He expected to be disliked and maligned. He acted like no one had ever treated him differently. Even Glenn hadn’t, not really. He’d wanted to make friends with Daryl but had given up almost immediately and then made terrible judgement calls about his character even after his neighbor had demonstrated he wanted to help him. And yeah, Daryl did not make it easy to see him for who he really was, but that was how he defended himself. If he could still go out of his way like that, still be so willing to help others, it was just wrong that people continued to treat him badly. 

That was how Glenn was going to repay his neighbor. He was going to change how people saw Daryl. 

 


	9. Now - Jacqui

 

It was a relief for Jacqui to step outside of the stuffy RV, two hours after the last echoes of gunfire had faded. No one wanted to leave the safety of the closest thing to a building that they had in camp, but she could only stand to choke on the smell of wall-to-wall sweating bodies for so long. Outside, Jacqui took a deep breath, seeking fresh air, only for reality to come crashing back in as the stench of Walkers, blood, and death overpowered her senses. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes until the urge to vomit passed.

Someone had set up a semi-circle of Tiki torches beside the RV to bring light into the inky blackness of the night. Several people were working beyond the small enclosure, using flashlights to move around in pairs of two, presumably checking bodies or gathering supplies. Jacqui quickly took stock of those she could see… and those she couldn’t.

There’d been thirty-two people in camp yesterday. At present, she counted twenty-seven. Lori and Carl were tucked up beside the vehicle sharing a blanket, Shane and Rick bickering quietly at the edge of the lit circle. Morales and his family were trying to sleep in the seats of their car not ten feet away. Andrea and Amy had joined Dale on the roof of the RV to keep watch in case of more danger. She’d counted five people who hadn’t dared to venture out of the safety of the RV as she left, and four flashlights that could be seen moving around camp out in the dark. 

The worst part was seeing the two families clustered in center stage. Carol knelt quietly weeping over a bite prominent on Ed’s arm, while he scolded her in a way that might have appeared comforting if Jacqui hadn’t known Ed better. Sophia looked more confused than upset, but she didn’t seem to want to risk asking questions. Not far away, and obviously the source of the cops’ discussion, the elderly Frank and Stephanie sat sobbing over their daughter. Sarah had always looked after them; it was undoubtedly what she’d been doing when she got bit in the shoulder. The wound was much more severe than Ed’s, and Jacqui wondered if she was even still alive. If so, she didn’t have much time left.

“Heads up!” A voice came out of the darkness that Jacqui instantly recognized as T-Dog. He was the one she felt most familiar and comfortable with of everyone in camp. He’d been the one to see her on foot trying to escape the streets of Atlanta and stop his church van, swinging the door wide open in the midst of all that danger to give her a chance.

A moment later a body came barreling into the light, hissing and snarling, entrails spilling out from a gaping hole in its stomach. The Walker nearly tripped over its own intestines before Shane put it down with a single bullet to its head. 

“Oh, God.” Someone said, and Jacqui could see why. It was Andy, one of their own, who had likely died alone and in agony, left to turn and attack his friends. 

T-Dog and Jim trotted into the circle. “Sorry, didn’t want to fire at you guys.” 

“How’s it looking?” Rick asked.

“Two still missing.” Glenn answered somberly as he joined them, Daryl a few steps behind him. “Now that we’ve found Andy. Three dead among a whole mess of geeks.”

“We got lucky.” Shane contributed, frowning as he holstered his weapon. 

“Nothing lucky about having those guns.” Rick glanced over at Daryl with a nod, as if he’d been the one to carry the sheriff's bag triumphantly into camp two days ago. 

Daryl grunted. “We’ve gotta take care of that girl.”

Jacqui cringed. He may be right, but that was callous as hell. 

Rick frowned and nodded, stepping carefully over towards Sarah and her parents so that he could crouch in front of them. “I’m truly sorry, but we need to make sure she won’t turn.”

“You bastard.” Stephanie sobbed. “She’s still alive. She can make it.”

Rick spoke in a calm, measured tone, confident and practiced in the face of panic. “You know that’s not true. We don’t have the medicine or professionals we need, even if there wasn’t a bite to deal with. She’s putting the whole group at risk, yourselves included. I’m sorry.”

“You’ll have to kill me first.” Frank declared, straightening to glare the cop down.

Jacqui took a deep breath and settled next to Rick, kneeling beside the shallowly breathing body. “I know what it’s like to lose a child, and there’s nothing that will make this better, but what you’re doing right now is letting her go on in pain. Screw the rest of the camp, you need to do this to help her because it’s the only thing left to do that can help. Don’t let her suffer.”

The silence was interminable as Jacqui met each of their eyes with a steady gaze of her own. There was nothing harder than watching your child dying slowly and painfully. It was the worst thing she’d ever lived through, without exception. When her own daughter had passed, she’d found her with a note gripped tightly in her fist where her last words were scribbled. ‘Would rather have these last ten minutes pain free than another month in agony. See you on the other side, Mom.’ Jacqui would have scooped up every scattered pill and joined her right then and there if not for her boys.

Frank gave a terse nod while Stephanie buried her face in his shoulder. Rick leaned forward slowly, like he thought they might revoke permission before he could ready his weapon. He pressed his colt against the side of the young woman’s head, angling it downward to avoid splattering the parents. Now, there was a gruesome thought. Jacqui watched as they both jumped at the piercing bang of the shot, even though everyone expected it. She wrapped her arms around them both before she moved to leave them alone with their grief.  

Jacqui swallowed hard, pushing down her own tears at the memories the scene evoked and moved to the back of the RV where she hoped she could battle her emotions in private. Instead, she found several people already clustered and hissing arguments back and forth.

“No.” Glenn whispered fiercely within the small group that had formed behind the RV for the illusion of privacy. “We’re not leaving our people just lying out there like that. And what about those that are missing?”

“We look when there’s light, an’ then we get on our way.” 

“I agree with Daryl.” Amy said, leaning over the RV to intrude on the conversation. “We shouldn’t risk our lives just to give a proper funeral.” 

“You can’t mean that, Amy.” Dale interrupted, concern apparent in his tone. “These people were still human beings, some of them were our friends yesterday.”

“I do mean it. I don’t think our friends would want us to die over something so trivial.” 

Andrea was giving Amy an odd look as she responded. “Even if you feel that way, there are people who lost family members tonight. They’re not going to just pick up and leave.” 

“Then we do the ones we gotta real quick ‘fore we go. Jim’s already dug the goddamn holes.” Daryl argued, more vocal than Jacqui had ever seen him. “We should leave in the mornin’.”

Main arguments stated, everyone turned to look at Shane and Rick, who glanced at each other like they were talking in their heads before turning back to everyone. “While it’s probably the safest option to leave in the morning, we can’t. We’re not leaving until we’ve located our two missing people, and know where we’re going.” Rick stated diplomatically.

“And Ed?” Jacqui asked, wondering if it would be something of a repeat of the earlier scene. Except it wouldn’t, couldn’t go down like that. Sarah had been close to dying, and Ed wasn’t. He was bit, and still bruised from the day before, but otherwise healthy. Did any one of them even know how long that would last?

The cops exchanged another look before Shane responded, “He’ll be watched for now.”

Daryl scoffed at the decision but didn’t protest further. “If that’s how it is, we oughtta make sure the dead stay dead.”

“You do that.” Shane agreed without any further elaboration. “Everyone else should get what sleep you can before dawn breaks. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

The rest of the night slipped away quickly, or perhaps it was later than she’d accounted for when she’d exited the RV. In any case, Jacqui doubted anyone had managed to get to sleep. 

Daryl was the first to depart, just as soon as the sky was light enough to illuminate most of the camp, to make good on his promise. He found a pickaxe from god only knew where and started bringing it down on the heads of every corpse indiscriminately. Jacqui didn’t know what kind of person could handle that task with such ease, like he didn’t know some of those people, like they’d been something other than human. She recognized the logic and perhaps even necessity of the action, but it unsettled her deeply. Was this simply how the world worked now? Did she want to live in that kind of world?

It wasn’t long before he reported back in that one of the missing had been located and was, in fact, deceased. No one was surprised.

When the sun had fully risen, the rest of the camp started to work, except those who were left to grieve. Rick disappeared somewhere outside of camp, but Shane directed people to gather wood, start a fire, look for the missing girl, gather supplies, and keep watch. Everyone who could function was given a task, except for Ed, who somehow managed to play his injury off as not a life-threatening concern and simultaneously the reason he couldn’t participate in the work. Jacqui would tell him off for it if not for the likelihood of him being dead so soon. Let him be a prick if that’s what he wanted to do on his last day on earth, just so long as he wasn’t hurting anyone. 

Jacqui was asked to help move bodies with Jim. She wanted to point out that moving bodies was definitely men’s work, and if the collapse of society had forced the women into walking stereotypes of the preindustrial era, the men should definitely stick to their own division of labor. But the air was too somber for the comment to be a joke, and too tense for it to be a complaint, so she just nodded along and asked Jim if he was okay. 

“Just deja vu, I guess.” He muttered before gripping the dead Walker’s other shoulder and helping her pull. 

Jacqui let them lapse into silence as they worked because that wasn’t the sort of statement where talking would help. Instead they dragged the bodies until sweat beaded on the back of her neck and forehead. Jacqui wiped it off with the back of her hand, noting how much the sun had travelled across the sky, and considered whether or not they needed to bother with burning all of the Walkers if they were going to leave camp anyway.

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Glenn’s voice prickled, and Jacqui swept a look over to the unexpected noise. Morales was dragging a body beside Daryl toward the pile of firewood. “This is for geeks. Our people go over there!”

“What’s the difference?” Daryl questioned. “They’re all infected.”  

“Our people go in that row over there.” Glenn repeated, pointing for emphasis, like it was a misunderstanding and not a disagreement.

“You reap what you sow.” Daryl protested, not as sour and distasteful as Jacqui had expected in a line like that. “We’re laying down some pretty nasty seeds here. ‘Sides, he didn’t have no other family.”

The Korean shook his head, voice cracking as he insisted, “We don’t burn our people! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there.” Morales nudged the redneck, who shrugged before altering his course and lining the body up beside the other familiar faces. 

Jim cleared his throat to get Jacqui’s attention and redirected them a little further away. Jacqui didn’t like being this far from the others, afraid that some other Walkers might be waiting in the treeline, childhood fears reestablished in the wake of real-life monsters. But there were a few Walkers sprawled on top of each other behind one of the cars, and even if they moved no others today, those three bodies would certainly be in the way if and when they left the quarry. 

Daryl had obviously stopped by, but managed to spike two of the Walkers in one hit, leaving their bodies sprawled atop each other. They rolled one off and the smell that emerged from between them sent Jacqui’s stomach for a flip as she gagged. 

“Oh, god. Those are all maggots?” She asked, not really looking for an answer.

“Do you think they were walking around with them or they bred once they stopped moving?” Jim asked. Jacqui decided it was rhetorical as well.  

There was a clunk from the trunk behind Jacqui, and she nearly fell as she leapt up and twisted around. “You hear that?” They both paused and listened. The clunk came again, unmistakably from the trunk. “That’s not a Walker, right?”

 A muffled shout followed. “Help!” 

Jim began to search the area for keys, while Jacqui went to the driver’s side and found the release button before darting back around. Inside was the final missing member of their camp. Kaylee stumbled getting out of the cramped space, her thick legs undoubtedly pins and needles, her tousled black hair too matted to straighten with her feeble attempts of running stout fingers through it. 

“I was running from them last night, saw someone had left their trunk open, and I just dove in.” Kaylee explained without prompting. “I was shouting earlier, but no one heard me. I’ve just been pounding away until you guys showed up.”

Jacqui embraced the shaking woman and escorted her back to the RV like warriors coming home victorious from battle. There were several shouts when they appeared, and people crowded around Kaylee like desperate, worried relatives. 

Somehow, it was decided that this warranted a celebration and most of the group gathered around one campfire to split the last of their meager rations. Everyone had to settle for little more than a few stale crackers, but Jacqui didn’t want to test her stomach after the day they’d had anyway. The mood had brightened considerably in light of one rescued member of their camp. Until it came crashing back down.

“What are we going to do about Ed?”

“I say we put a pickaxe in his head an’ be done with it.” Daryl declared brazenly, ignoring the looks of disgust that were thrown his way. 

Shane snorted. “Is that what you’d want, if it were you?” 

“Yeah, an’ I’d thank ya while ya did it.”

“I hate to say it, I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl’s right.” Dale began slowly, eyeing Ed and his small family as they snacked on crackers under the shade by the RV. 

Rick jumped in before Dale could finish his thought. “Ed’s not a monster, Dale. Or some rabid dog that needs to be put down. He’s a sick, sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?”

“The line’s pretty clear.” Daryl stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Zero tolerance for Walkers, or them to be.”

Rick shook his head quickly, like he was afraid other people might join in to agree with Daryl. Jacqui didn’t see that happening. “What if we can get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure. If there’s any government left, any structure at all, they’d protect the CDC at all costs, wouldn’t they? I think it’s our best shot, shelter, protection…”

Jacqui’s eyes skittered over to Shane, to see if the leader they’d been following would agree with the newcomer, his old partner. She could see on his face that his opinion differed, but he was holding off. They’d have a conversation soon, but she wasn’t yet sure who’d come out on top.

 Amy, however, didn’t have any problems disagreeing with Rick. “The government bombed the city. They aren’t protecting anything.”

Daryl stood up abruptly and sent Amy a look before grabbing for his pickaxe. “Screw this. You go lookin’ for aspirin. Someone’s just gotta have some balls to take care of this damn problem.” He turned sharply and made it all of three steps before Rick was on his feet with his gun drawn. The sound of it cocking stopped Daryl in his tracks.

“We don’t kill the living.”

“That’s funny, comin’ from a man who just put a gun to my head.” Daryl turned halfway so he could pin Rick with a look over his shoulder. “Yer gonna risk all our lives for Ed? Ya know what he’s been doin’? Shoulda let me kill the bastard last night.”

“I’ve got an inkling. But what Ed does or doesn’t do won’t change my decision. I can’t let a man die like that, me. And I also think the CDC is the best chance for my family and for all of us.” Rick gestured to the weapon still in the redneck’s grip. “Put it down.” 

Daryl threw it petulantly to the side. 

“Let’s finish up with the bodies.” Shane suggested to the group before immediately following Rick over to Ed’s family. Several people followed the instruction, getting back to work with only mumbled complaints. Jacqui watched as the cops talked with Ed before moving him into the RV, probably to protect him from Daryl. 

“What the hell was that?” Glenn hissed, obviously trying and failing miserably to avoid attracting attention. 

“What?” Daryl turned his attention to his companion. “Ya change yer mind ‘bout me puttin’ ya down if ya get bit, too?”

“What? No!” Glenn shook his head like it was a non-sequitur. “You were seriously going to kill Ed in front of his wife and daughter? You’ll traumatize them. What’s wrong with you?”

“Better traumatized than dead. That man is a time bomb, an’ he’s gonna take people with him when he goes.”

Jacqui had had enough of this holier than thou bullshit, especially coming from Daryl Dixon of all people. She was done holding her tongue. “So it’s got nothing to do with you beating him half to death yesterday.”

Daryl threw her a look. “This ain’t personal. Jus’ dealin’ with the problem.”

“The problem of you not liking what you see in the mirror, maybe.”

Daryl glared. Glenn looked incensed, and Jacqui was flabbergasted by the cartwheels he must be doing inside his own mind to interrupt his own reprimands of the hunter’s heartless behavior and attitude to jump down her throat for doing the same thing. Daryl must be one hell of a lay. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating there.”

“Daryl’s right.” Amy cut in before Glenn could let his anger get the best of him. “I mean, obviously not about how to do it, but Ed’s a danger to us all.”

Snorting, Daryl responded with disdain, “Just ‘cause I saved yer life don’t mean we gotta be friends.”

“I’m not trying to be your friend. It’s just… you’re the only one here who seems to know how to survive, and I  _ want _ to survive. I can’t keep thinking things can be how they were. I’m sorry I offended you by agreeing.” Amy stalked off to get back to dragging bodies, apparently a more enjoyable task than talking with Daryl, Andrea a few steps behind, taking the time to give Daryl a disgusted look.

“You have to be an ass to everyone?” Jacqui huffed, annoyed that the eternal asshole couldn’t even manage to be tolerant of someone in the middle of agreeing with him. “You catch more flies with honey than that piss and vinegar you keep in your mouth.”

“Why would I wanna catch flies?” Glenn managed to pry Daryl away to get back to work and Jacqui was left to wonder whether Daryl was smarter than she gave him credit for, or a complete idiot. 

It took most of the day to finish the tasks that had been assigned to them, several of the men being drawn away to do periodic sweeps of the perimeter to ensure no Walkers could sneak up on them. Jacqui suspected it was a cover for the arguments about their next steps. 

In the late afternoon, they held a service for the deceased. Daryl was strangely tactful, keeping his mouth shut while people took the opportunity to say a few words about those who’d died. He took on the task of filling in the graves afterward, never making a peep. Jacqui didn’t say anything either, and those who attempted speeches could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address for all she could pay attention. All she could think about was the countdown that had begun in her head. Thirty-two when Rick arrived. Three dead the night before made twenty-nine. Then Sarah brought it down to twenty-eight. Another body found that morning left them with twenty-seven. Ed had picked up a fever in the RV and pretty soon it would be twenty-six. Was that all she could expect from now on?

Over the dinner that wasn’t, Shane made the announcement that they’d be following Rick’s plan to head toward the CDC, and that the most important thing was for all of them to stick together. Even though it was Shane delivering the speech, it was practically a concession of power. Rick had come out on top of their disagreement, and he would probably take over all the major decisions from then on. Jacqui wasn’t sure the CDC was the right choice or if Rick would be a good leader, but she was certain that her odds were better with the group than without it. 

In the morning, just before they were set to leave, Morales announced that he and his family would be heading towards Birmingham instead to meet up with family. Rick and Shane both tried to talk them out of it, but they were adamant. Frank and Stephanie were quick to jump ship after that announcement, citing their own family in the same direction, but probably unwilling to stay with the group that got their daughter killed. That made twenty-one. Jacqui wasn’t sure if they should be included in her countdown. They weren’t dead, but she was certain she’d never see them again. Their odds were undoubtedly worse for separating from the group. Twenty-one, then. 

Jacqui rode in the RV as they made their way down to the highway and looped around the city to reach the CDC from a safer angle. She didn’t have her own vehicle, hadn’t needed one when she lived in the city. She hovered in and out of the back end where Ed lay grumbling and sweating, Carol and Sophia doing their best to care for him. Kaylee and Glenn had also opted for the large vehicle, arguing with good nature about navigation privileges, and of course, Dale drove. Jacqui immediately pinpointed the odd man out sitting behind the driver’s seat. “Thought you’d be riding with Daryl.” Jacqui pointed out bluntly. 

“Oh, um, no.” Glenn shifted around to face her on the bench seat. “I mean, I would, but Rick sent him ahead on his bike to scout, make sure we don’t run into any problems.”

“Right. Had nothing to do with making sure he doesn’t kill Ed before we get to the CDC.”

Glenn scowled, and Jacqui was reminded that while Glenn was generally very intelligent, he had a stupid streak the exact height and width of a particular redneck. “He’s not violent.”

Jacqui raised an eyebrow pointedly. “He beat Ed, and then intended to murder him with a pickaxe.”

 “I wish you could just…” The Korean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a wheezing sort of huff that made Jacqui wonder for several long minutes if she’d somehow broken Glenn by forcing him to acknowledge the reality that surrounded them, the reality of the brutish man he adored. But when he finally did speak, quietly and carefully, his tone was nothing short of confident. “You’re right. Given the opportunity, Daryl probably would try to take matters into his own hands.” Glenn licked his lips and turned fully towards Jacqui. “But it’s only because he wants to keep our group safe. He wants to take it on himself because the rest of us don’t know how to look after ourselves. Everything he does, everything, is to help other people. You just don’t see it.”

Jacqui took the time to consider Glenn’s comment in depth, partly because she’d never be able to hold a civil conversation with Glenn again if she didn’t, and partly because there was nothing better to do while the RV crept down the road. Of everyone that had been in camp, Daryl was the only one she thought might do better on their own than with a group. He had the skills and knowledge to survive what was facing them and chose to stay in a camp of needy people that he obviously didn’t like or get along with. She was certain this choice had everything to do with what Glenn wanted and was not an empathetic desire to care for others at large, but even so, Daryl did help others at the camp. He provided food, went on runs for supplies, and took regular shifts on watch. He even took on tasks that needed to be done but no one wanted to do, like destroying the brains of the fallen Walkers, and of their comrades. What Glenn was saying wasn’t impossible, she supposed. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But he’s still an asshole.” 

“I’ll give you that.” Glenn said with an easy smile. “He’s terrible with people.” 

Jacqui gave a half smile back in response. That still somehow managed to be an understatement. She hadn’t known Daryl all that long but already she could think of dozens of examples where he was ruthless and cruel. He especially had no patience for children and had made both Sophia and Carl cry on more than one occasion. None of that, however, would be helpful to bring up. Glenn would either blindly defend that behavior or somehow make it out to be an appropriate balance given his other attributes. No, if Jacqui wanted to open up their lines of communication, she’d have to toss him a softball. “I watched him close a door right in Dale’s face. Slammed the door of his own RV shut while Dale was trying to talk to him.”

“Nearly broke my nose.” Dale contributed helpfully over his shoulder, reminding them both that their conversation wasn’t private. 

“Oh, man, I can’t believe I missed that!” Glenn cackled. “I thought I was the only one.”  

“What? You get a tent-flap in your face?” Kaylee asked with teasing mirth before pointing out an upcoming turn to Dale.

“No, it was Before. He used to do it to me all the time.” Glenn chuckled a little at the memory with more fondness than Jacqui thought it deserved.

“How’d you meet?” Jacqui asked, wondering if the memories of a better time were what tied Glenn and Daryl so closely together. She didn’t have anyone left from Before so it was hard for her to tell.

“He moved in next door.” 

Whatever else Glenn might have said was cut off by the heavy bump in the road and the corresponding groan from the very back of the RV. Jacqui paced back to the source of the sound to check on Carol and her family. Carol stiffly insisted that everything was fine despite Sophia’s fearful expression and Ed’s lack of response. Not sure how else she could help, Jacqui left them alone and headed back toward the front. 

Glenn had shifted a little further back and was now sitting at the dining table, hands folded on the clean surface. She sat down opposite of him, surprised when he opened up and started talking to her immediately, like she’d forged enough of a bridge to let through the torrent of emotions he’d been keeping back. “He’s my best friend, and I don’t think he even understands what I’m going through, even though, by all accounts, we’re in the same boat.”

Jacqui reached out a hand and rested it gently on the young man’s clasped grip, offering comfort in a way that she doubted Daryl would, and thankful that there was at least one person willing to accept her help. “It’s okay that you’re having a hard time. We’re all struggling.”

“I miss my family.” Glenn explained morosely. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to see them again, and it fucking hurts.” Glenn rubbed hard over his eyes, but he wasn’t crying, just absorbed in a self-directed anger. “I wanted so badly to take control of my own life, to make decisions about what I wanted for myself and not just fall in line with what my family expected. And I pushed them away. I wasted the last visit I’ll probably ever get pissed over their affection and concern.” Glenn shook his head, cutting off a half-hysterical sob with a clearing of his throat. “And Daryl would probably be better off if he never saw his family again. Not exactly the sort you miss, I guess. I doubt his brother ever left the area. I just know that son of a bitch is still kicking ass and taking names. That’s some sort of cosmic injustice right there.” 

Jacqui silently agreed, karma seemed to have been flipped on its head these days. She nodded at Kaylee as she passed by with a mumbled excuse about using the bathroom. She let the frustration and pain of Glenn’s confession dangle in the air, raw and bleeding because there was no sort of treatment she could offer that would ease the pain of the loss Glenn was experiencing. All she could do was bare her own wounds.

“My sons were coming to Atlanta for my 50th birthday, if you can believe that, right before all of this went down. I don’t know where they ended up, if they got into a roadblock or turned around, if they were redirected to the refugee center, if they’re dead and wandering the woods somewhere.” In any case, Jacqui’s damn sure she won’t see them again, and that pain stabs at her every time her mind wanders too far off by itself. Some part of her had planned to just wait outside of the city until she died, just in case they somehow got to her, but here she was leaving the area, and she had no idea why. 

“I’m so so-” Glenn’s reply was cut off by a piercing scream from the RV’s bedroom. Dale jerked in response and the RV lurched to the side, knocking Glenn and Jacqui to the floor while Dale regained control and maneuvered the vehicle to a halt. An agonized wail wrenched through the air as they struggled to regain their footing. Jacqui took a little longer getting to her feet and trailed behind Glenn as he swung his gun up and charged towards the fray. Sophia darted past them, shuffling around in the small space to get clear of the danger. Jacqui was relieved that she didn’t appear injured and concentrated on the task at hand. 

Jacqui swallowed hard at the scene just past Glenn’s shoulder. Ed was crouched over Kaylee, munching on her neck. Her eyes were already glazed over, her body on the verge of bleeding out. 

Nineteen. 

Glenn shot Ed clean in the head. Kaylee wasn’t struggling, so Jacqui told herself she was already dead when Glenn pulled the trigger a second time. She imagined Glenn probably told himself the same thing. 

“She ran!” Carol interrupted, causing them both to swivel towards her. “She ran. Where is my baby?!” The woman’s eyes were wide in terror and horror, blood trickling from the side of her head, but there were no obvious bite marks. 

“She’s fine, she just-” Jacqui turned around to find Dale with his rifle and no one else. “Where’d Sophia go?”

“I didn’t see her.” Dale responded, eyes growing wide in alarm. “She wouldn’t have gone outside, would she?”

“Her father just tried to eat her. I don’t think she’s thinking straight.” Glenn quipped as he bolted for the door, flinging it open and scanning the road. Everyone else fell in behind him. Their side of the highway was mostly clear, though there were more cars piled up on the other side of the median, vestiges of those trying to get out of the city. They’d come to a stop just as the city began to take shape around them but there were still more trees than buildings on either side of the road, and not a Walker could be seen that wasn’t trapped inside a vehicle. “There!” Glenn pointed across the highway at a small form running into the treeline.

“Sophia!” Carol shouted immediately, ignoring any possible threats with the blind devotion of motherly instincts. “Sophia!”

Jacqui slapped her hand over the woman’s mouth. “Don’t! Those things are drawn to any sounds we make. There may be more than we can see.”

“I’ll bring her back before she can get too far. Everyone, just stay here.” Glenn announced, moving swiftly to the median and then jogging through the clogged street towards the other side. 

Seventeen. The number came unbidden to Jacqui’s mind, and she squashed it back down like she squashed thoughts of her children. 

“What the hell happened?” Rick and Shane were at the front of the charge, caravan piled up behind the Winnebago, and a string of curious and concerned people making their way to the commotion. 

“Ed turned.” Jacqui reported matter-of-factly. “He got Kaylee. Glenn put them both down.”

“Jesus.” Shane grumbled. “Wasn’t anyone watching him?”

“I thought he was asleep.” Carol moaned. “He said he was tired, told me to leave him be.”

“He should have been tied up.” Mike argued, hands clenched tight over the handgun Rick had provided him with, his features pinching tightly in worry, scrunching up in the center of his wide face to make him appear small despite his large frame. “Or guarded or something.”

Rick cut off the conversation with a raised hand. “Is everyone else okay? Where’s Glenn now?”

“Sophia ran into the woods. Glenn went after her.” 

The rumble of a motorcycle could be heard further down the road. Jacqui hadn’t heard it since they’d been standing there, so she figured Daryl must have turned around to head back towards them, likely catching the sound of gunshots and assuming the worst. 

Dale looked down the road with concern, the motorcycle emerging into their line of sight. “We’re going to have our hands full when Daryl gets back here.”

“This day just gets better and better.” Shane rubbed a hand across his forehead and sighed. 

Rick ignored them, concentrating on the more pressing issue. “They can’t have gotten far, Glenn’s probably on his way back with her as we speak, but let’s give them some backup anyway.” 

“Hold on.” Mike interrupted again. “Those… those Walkers are moving out of the city now, right? That’s why they were up at the quarry? Well, we’re even closer to the city than before, and we’re just going to walk into the woods where there’s bound to be a bunch of monsters? Are you insane?” 

Rick straightened and held the frightened man’s gaze. “I’m not leaving two of our people, including one scared little girl, out there alone.” 

“I’m sorry about that girl, I am, but every decision you’ve made since you got here has been the wrong one! You didn’t handle Ed right, you’ve dragged us further towards the hot zone, and now you’re risking all of us on a wild goose chase. We’re too close to the city, and you want us to stay out here waiting for the Walkers to reach us following the sound of those gunshots. I’m not putting my life, or my wife’s life in that kind of danger.” His wife, Ellen, hovered a few steps behind him, a pretty, petite brunette whose face echoed his sentiments.

“Then go while you still have the chance. And take anyone who agrees with you.” Rick stated flatly, turning his back to the departing pair and moving on to the instructions regarding the search. Jacqui watched them hesitate only a moment before jumping back into their car and pulling a U-turn. She modified her count down to fifteen. “We’ll do three teams, I’ll lead one, and Shane can lead one. T-Dog, are you up for the other?”

“Sure. Just tell me what you want.”

Before Rick could explain further, Daryl’s bike reached them and he switched the rumbling engine off, dismounting quickly and scanning the group. “Where’s Glenn?” Everyone froze, wondering if Daryl really would shoot the messenger. 

Jacqui turned to face the redneck. “Sophia ran into the woods. He’s gone to find her.”

“Shit.” Daryl frowned. “Ed kill anyone?” 

“Kaylee.” 

Daryl’s expression was unreadable. “Ya see where Glenn went in?” 

Jacqui pointed, finding herself exceptionally compliant at Daryl’s oddly calm demeanor. “Behind that red pick-up.” Daryl nodded and grabbed a bag from his bike, looping it over his neck before heading off immediately.

“Hold up, now. We’re getting this organized so we can do it properly.” Jacqui figured one would have to be charitable to call Shane’s tone half-hearted. “You don’t gotta do this on your own.”

“I’m better on my own.” Daryl declared without turning around. He’d nearly made it out of their midst when Carol stopped him with a grip on his bare arm. He glowered at her hand until she let go.

“If you’d’ve killed him when we found out he was bit, none of this would have happened.” 

“We’re gonna locate Glenn, he’s gonna have that little girl, an’ they’re both gonna be just fine. Am I the only one zen around here? Good lord.”

Jacqui fought the smile at Daryl’s unexpected words as the hunter passed through the cars and made his way into the forest. Maybe Glenn was right, and Daryl did things just because he thought they were needed. Maybe he was looking out for other people, after all. 

Jacqui waited on the roof of the RV with Carol, Lori, Carl and Dale in hopes that Sophia and Glenn would make it back to the highway on their own, each passing minute making that less and less likely. The rest of their group split into three teams and followed a search pattern. Rick took his group up the center where Jacqui had last seen Sophia, sending Shane’s team down a quarter of a mile towards the city and T-Dog’s team a quarter of a mile back the way they came. All three groups planned to walk a straight line into the woods for exactly one hour to look for any signs of the missing people. In an hour, they’d turn around and walk straight back to the highway. 

They were taking every precaution they could think of. They planned to be back two hours before dusk would fall, but had taken along flashlights and water as extra insurance. If they ran into too many Walkers to easily evade, they were to return instead of firing a gun and attracting more attention. Still, each group supposedly had at least two people who could shoot in case of an emergency, and an extra melee weapon. Rick was apparently fine with stretching ‘could shoot’ to include Andrea, though, and Jacqui had doubts about their other safety measures as well. She kept it to herself but still passed the time wondering how many of them would be returning, and how many would be added to her tally. 

T-Dog returned with his group only twenty minutes in, reporting back that there were too many Walkers roaming around to do a thorough search on their own. If they’d have stayed out, they would have been forced to fire their guns and drawn even more attention. Carol looked pale and shaken by the report, falling to her knees and crying that her daughter was only twelve years old, that she couldn’t be out there alone with them. T-Dog shook his head, resting a bloodied tire iron on the ground to pull Carol into an embrace. Teddy and Raina shuffled through apologies as well. The brother and sister, a pair of fraternal twins with more freckles than unspotted skin, each carried a baseball bat. Jacqui noted that they were bloodied as well, and wondered how dangerous just their brief search had been. 

“She’s not alone.” Jacqui refuted. “Glenn’s got her.”

“You really believe that?” Carol said, tear-filled eyes still hopeful as they landed on her. 

“I do.” Jacqui lied confidently. “We’re going to find them, and they’re both going to be just fine.” Jacqui found herself unintentionally echoing Daryl’s words as she looked for the perfect comfort. She might not feel it, she might not believe it, but she did want it to be true. The least she could do was provide a kind lie until the others returned to contradict her. 

 


	10. Before

 

There was a knock on the door. 

Glenn looked back and met Daryl’s curious gaze before redirecting his own to the front door of his apartment. The knock came again.

“Expectin’ someone?” 

Glenn shook his head, but stood anyway, reaching the door just as the third set of knocks resounded through the small apartment. He looked through the peephole, mouth dropping open at the sight, before undoing the deadbolt and swinging the door open. 

“Mom?” Glenn stared. “What are you doing here?”

“You think I’d forget my son’s birthday?” Glenn’s mom, Kyung-hee, reached up and grasped both his cheeks, squeezing affectionately and a little too hard, before scooting him out of the way without seeming to push at all and flowing into the hallway. 

Annabelle marched in quietly behind her. “Hey, nerd.” His younger sister didn’t so much address Glenn as address the phone she was tapping away at. 

Glenn checked the hall for stragglers before closing the door and running a hand along the back of his head. “Uh, no, but it’s an awful long way to travel for a birthday.” It was half the reason he picked some place far out of his home state of Michigan where his parents wouldn’t be inclined to visit him often. He was an adult now and a huge fan of his own space.

Kyung-hee waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “Really, uri gangaji, it’s been more than a year since I’ve seen you. How could we  _ not _ visit?” His mom’s eyes traveled over his apartment, like it wasn’t the same one he’d been living in for the last three years, and quickly landed on Daryl. “And who’s this?” Even Annabelle looked up in interest briefly before snorting and returning to her phone.

 Daryl stood up awkwardly as Glenn introduced him, sidling more towards the door as Kyung-hee extended her hand in greeting. Glenn watched the exchange with a growing sense of dread. His mother was a force of nature and Daryl had, well, no manners to speak of. “I should get goin’.” So far, so good.

“Nonsense.” The older woman placed her hands on her hips before it was even clear whether or not Daryl would have shook her hand. Things were about to go downhill, he could feel it. “Glenn has told me so much about you. You must stay for dinner.”

“Mom, Daryl’s got other things to do.”

“Everyone’s got to eat.” 

“I don’t have any food in the house.”

“Susie’s at the store now.”

“Susie’s here?” The knowledge completely derailed Glenn’s train of thought. It’d been years since he’d seen his oldest sister. She’d only just gotten out of the Peace Corps.

“She wanted to celebrate your birthday, too, gangaji.” Kyung-hee turned quickly towards Daryl, who was still eyeing the door like he might make a run for it. “You’ll stay for dinner, of course.”

Unexpectedly, Daryl shrugged and agreed. Glenn couldn’t be sure if it was the force of his mom’s expression or the temptation of a free, home-cooked meal, but a few minutes later, Daryl was sitting beside Annabelle on the couch with the controller in his hand ostensibly playing, while Glenn was giving his mother a tour of the same apartment he’d lived in last visit. 

“Oh, and Karen’s at a conference in Tulsa tonight, but she’s planning to be here tomorrow.” 

“Can’t believe you guys are all here.” Glenn shifted awkwardly, caught between pleasure at seeing his family again and annoyance at having no warning of their arrival. “Dad coming?”

“You know him,” Kyung-hee smiled stiffly. “Too busy with work.”

Glenn nodded because he did know all too well about the leading and possibly only point of contention in his parents’ marriage. There was another knock at the door, and soon Glenn was letting in Susie, embracing her in a warm hug, all childhood quarrels forgotten. 

“It’s been too long, squirt.”

Glenn fell into easy conversation with Susie and his mom while they prepared dinner, occasionally glancing over at Annabelle and Daryl sitting on the couch. Susie told lengthy stories about her work in a small village outside Nairobi, that were undoubtedly embellished just as she’d exaggerated her accomplishments throughout school, but Kyung-hee was preening in pride, so Glenn wasn’t about to call her on it.

Dinner was horrible. Not even the mouth-watering nostalgia on a plate could alleviate the pain of the stilted conversation. Susie and Kyung-hee were taking turns interrogating Daryl, who would only respond with the barest syllables necessary. Glenn was too mortified to object property. 

“What do you do for work, Daryl?”

“Mechanic.”

“Daryl, are you from Georgia?”

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

The questions went on, despite quiet protests and hints, until Glenn was sure that Daryl would never visit him again. He excused himself the moment his plate was cleared, darting out of the apartment like it was on fire, and Glenn slunk into his chair, batting his food around despondently. 

“Kinda old, isn’t he?” Annabelle asked after a moment of silence. 

“So?” Glenn glared. Why did she care who his friends were?

“Doesn’t seem like he’s got a lot going on up there.” Annabelle continued, gesturing to her head with a smirk.

Glenn kicked her under the table. “Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”

“I’m just concerned about the kind of person he is, that’s all.” Kyung-hee remarked, like the whole dinner interrogation had been completely reasonable. 

Glenn threw up his hands. “What? You think he’s some sort of… of hitman or something?” The words were a little too close to home, considering his own accusations not that long ago. “He’s a good man.”

“He does sort of look the type.” Susie added contemplatively. Her eyes were glinting at the teasing remark, but Glenn had no humor for the conversation.

“Jesus! I’ve never known you to be so judgemental! You know what type of person Daryl is? Daryl’s the type of person who gives and gives of himself and asks nothing in return. He’s the sort of person that won’t lie regardless of what the truth might make you think of him. He’s the sort of person who is loyal even when you don’t deserve it.”

There were several minutes of complete silence outside of the clacking of forks on plates as they all pretended to still be hungry and munching on their food. Finally, Kyung-hee sighed. “I guess I just don’t understand what you’re doing here, Glenn. You’ve got a degree now, and you’re letting it gather dust as you deliver pizzas. Go get your Master’s or apply for a real job, but don’t just sit there.”

Glenn let out an exaggerated huff. So, it wasn’t a birthday surprise. It was an intervention. They wanted him to make-up his mind already. They always expected him to do things their way. He scrubbed his hands over his forehead. 

“Maybe you’re staying at this job, staying in Atlanta, for the wrong reasons.” Susie contributed, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Glenn couldn’t identify one reason he had stayed in Atlanta so long, so he could hardly imagine choosing the wrong reasons. It was like one day, he’d woken up, and all the inertia in his life was gone. “I like what I’m doing.” He didn’t mind it, anyway. 

“You could join the Peace Corps. You can make a difference. Do something that will change people’s lives.” Susie suggested. “It’s not like you’re going to save anyone’s life by staying here in Atlanta.”

Shortly after dinner, Glenn’s family left to check into their hotel, with promises to return early the next morning, and Glenn went to beg Daryl for forgiveness. Daryl answered after his first knock, like he’d been expecting Glenn’s appearance, and Glenn stumbled through a lengthy apology. It might have been easier if he hadn’t had to talk around the foot lodged in his mouth. 

Daryl’s expression gave nothing away, so Glenn barreled onward. “Honestly, I had no idea they were going to interrogate you like that. I don’t know why they felt the need, anyway. I’ve barely said anything about you. I mean, I’ve told them about you, but only good things, you know, like the car stuff. I don’t know why they were-” 

“’S fine.” His neighbor interrupted, finally. “Just care ‘bout ya is all.”

Glenn nodded eagerly, grateful that his family’s tactless nosiness would not be a point of contention. “You know how family is.” He chuckled. Daryl shrugged and closed the door in his face. Glenn wasn’t sure whether or not he’d been forgiven.

Glenn always took his birthday off from work, a tradition his family was well aware of when plotting this surprise. However, when returning early the next morning turned out to be a knock at the door at four a.m., Glenn seriously considered calling in and begging for some extra hours that day. He pulled on some pants and trudged toward the door, giving the window that led to the fire escape a longing look before opening the door.

Glenn nearly fell over at the ball of energy that threw herself at him, stepping backward to brace himself so they both didn’t fall straight to the ground. “Glenn!” 

“Karen, it’s good to see you.” Glenn said into the black mass of her permed hair, bleary and sleepy, but genuine in his statement. Glenn rubbed his face and shook his head to clear it away as soon as his sister released him. She picked up her bag and rolling suitcase and strolled into the apartment like it would never occur to her that she might be unwelcome even at this hour. “I haven’t seen you since your doctoral defense. What’s it like being your own boss?”

“That’s not remotely how anything works, but nice try.” Karen smiled broadly, setting her suitcase by the couch before sitting on the armrest. “I can just like crash here if you want a few more hours of sleep.” 

Glenn shook his head. “Sleeping would be a total waste of our limited time.” 

And now that he was less murderously grouchy, it was true. Karen was closest to him in age, though painfully more accomplished, and she understood him in a way that the rest of his family failed to emulate. It wasn’t because of her fancy psychology degree, either. Karen had understood how he thought since he was a baby yowling for his lost blankie. 

By the time the rest of his family had arrived at seven a.m. on the dot, they’d covered most of Karen’s latest research, including how they evaluated the lab rats for signs of loneliness, and not breathed one word of Glenn’s current ambitions. Glenn had changed and prepared them both a cup of coffee, and he thought that, intervention or not, he could probably handle the rest of his family’s meddling. That thought lasted right up until Kyung-hee spread out the fast-food she’d bought them onto his kitchen table and cheerfully suggested he invite Daryl over for breakfast.

“He’s probably not awake yet.” Seriously, what was his family’s obsession with Daryl? He had other friends. None that he spent quite as much time with anymore, but he did have other friends.

“Nonsense.” Kyung-hee insisted. “I just saw his light on our way in. Invite him; I bought extra.”

“Mom, I’m not going to bother Daryl this early in the morning. He’s probably getting ready for work, anyway.” As much as Glenn didn’t want Daryl to have to spend time with his family, he also didn’t want his family to spend time with Daryl. He didn’t want to devote his morning to making good on his resolution to protect Daryl’s honor while simultaneously keeping the wolves off his own back about his current life choices.

“Don’t sweat it.” Annabelle slid her phone into her back pocket, diving quickly towards the front door. “I’ve got it.”

“Anna! Don’t!” Glenn darted after her, chasing her straight into the hallway but entirely unable to prevent the teenager from pounding loudly on Daryl’s door. His neighbor opened his door a moment later while Glenn was still glaring daggers at Annabelle. He quirked his eyebrow, leaned against his doorframe and waited for an explanation. It took Glenn a moment to realize that his sister had no intention of actually responding, and was leaving the dirty work to him. “We’re about to have breakfast. We’ve got plenty if you’d like to join us. Unless you’ve got other plans or -”

“Alright.” Daryl said promptly, causing Glenn to stop mid-ramble. He hadn’t expected his friend to decide to join them, and he certainly hadn’t expected him to be so quick to jump on board. Did he not remember the interrogation from the night before? Of course, Annabelle was standing right there, so Glenn couldn’t properly warn him. 

Daryl swung his arm into his apartment, grabbed a box from his counter, and followed them next door. Glenn was ambushed by his mother as soon as he set foot back in his apartment as she dragged him into a bear hug like she hadn’t seen him a minute ago. The hug went on far longer than Glenn felt comfortable with, like she was trying to make up for the year of no hugs from her only son, and he started up a series of protests to vocally try to escape. 

“Seriously, mom, quit it. You’re embarrassing me.” Glenn floundered, wondering what the tough biker dude from next door thought of his dweeb neighbor with a helicopter mom now. He peeked around to get a look at Daryl, and the man was just staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, like he’d just seen a mouse swallowing an elephant. 

Kyung-hee eventually let him go, and Glenn congratulated himself on reminding her that he was starving and the food was getting cold. After a moment, everything seemed to rush back into motion. The redneck nodded in welcome to Glenn’s family, even extending a hand toward Karen and introducing himself before sitting down at the table between Glenn’s mom and Susie and acting for all the world like this was a common occurrence. 

Glenn stared at the spectacle, standing at the head of the table, which was just as well because he didn’t have enough chairs for all of his guests. Annabelle was sitting on the counter with a plate in hand, and slowly, Glenn simply accepted the strangeness of the situation to drag some biscuits onto his own plate, holding it aloft and letting the familiar sensation of family wash over him. 

The conversation started out benign enough, with Karen filling everyone in on her latest work in the broadest strokes of explanation and inquiring after Annabelle’s school, and Susie’s plans now that she was out of the Peace Corps. 

“There are so many options, really.” Susie said loftily. “I’ve learned so much, and the Peace Corps has really opened some doors for me. I have been considering staying on independently because of course I love the work I’m doing, but I also need to ensure I’m not damaging my long-term career goals.” Glenn concentrated on his food and tried to tune out his sister. It was hard to tell whether or not she was being genuine, but he loathed the way her fifty-point plans for her future influenced how his parents viewed him. He stabbed his sausage with extra zeal, scraping his fork along his plate in an unpleasant squeal. 

Daryl was suddenly talking, unprovoked, and Glenn jerked his head up in surprise. “Peace Corps teach ya survival skills?”

“Oh, certainly.” Susie then proceeded to delve into the primitive societies that made up the rural African communities she’d worked with and how she’d been taught how to make so many tools she’d previously bought mindlessly from a store. Glenn wasn’t sure if Daryl was actually interested in the conversation, but he was following along and oddly polite. 

“Useful skills.” Daryl ultimately concluded. “People are too reliant on modern luxuries. Wouldn’t know how to survive one day without ‘lectricity.”

“Funny you should say that.” Susie replied with a slowly growing smile and twinkle in her eyes that told Glenn he was in trouble. “Glenn here is definitely one of the afflicted. He couldn’t get half his merit badges because he was too scared to spend the night in the woods, even surrounded by a dozen other kids.”

Glenn groaned. He’d known this was coming. They were bound and determined to embarrass him. It was the whole reason they’d wanted Daryl, no doubt. It doubled the fun to have an audience. “I was eight. And I didn’t want to do Boy Scouts.”  

Glenn deeply regretted chancing a look over to Daryl. The man looked baffled and slightly betrayed, like he’d taken it for granted that of course Glenn must know everything about camping. He was friends with Daryl, after all. “Guess we got bigger problems than ya not knowin’ how to fix yer car.”

Karen chuckled. “Oh, he has all sorts of problems. Just look at how he’s decorated here. Game boxes are not wall art.” 

“Forget the art.” Annabelle snorted. “Place is filthy. When’s the last time you cleaned your sink, bro?” 

“Seriously. Ya gotta at least clean for guests.” Daryl was smiling as he said it, and Glenn was starting to wonder what sort of weird alternate reality he’d slipped into. “You even got soap here?”

“I would have cleaned up for guests.” Glenn said pointedly, ignoring the way his cheeks were flaming in embarrassment. “If I had known there were guests coming.” 

“We know, gangaji.” Kyung-hee patted his arm affectionately. “We’ve all just missed you. You should really visit home more often. Or move back. Your father could get you a job in a week if you asked. A real job, not just delivering pizzas.”

“I like it here.” Glenn responded stubbornly.

“What’s there to like?” Daryl grumbled, conspicuously siding with Glenn’s family over Glenn once again. 

“Yo, Daryl.” Annabelle announced brazenly, collecting controllers from the television and plopping down on the couch. “You owe me a rematch.”

Daryl shrugged and joined her.

Glenn stole his chair, but he wasn’t sure if it was better or worse sitting and listening to his mom and Susie quietly try to cajole him into making something of himself. Karen was no help at all besides sympathetic side glances. Glenn sighed and slumped down in his chair. “How long are you guys planning to stay again?” 

Before Kyung-hee could reprimand him for being so rude, Daryl interrupted with a sharp exclamation of “What?!”

All four of them turned to look at the couch where Annabelle was giggling madly and Daryl was muttering something possibly aggressive at her, but she didn’t seem in the slightest bit perturbed. She whispered something back, and Glenn just rolled his eyes and turned back around, knowing he was the butt of whatever joke was going on between them, but unwilling to muster the appropriate disdain. 

A moment later, the mechanic rose from the couch, forfeiting whatever rematch they were barely paying attention to and swung by the table, placing the small cardboard box in front of Glenn. “Gotta get to work, but happy birthday I guess.”

“Oh.” Glenn looked at the box in surprise. “You really didn’t need to. I mean, I’m already borrowing your car and you’ve-”

“Stop.” Daryl cut him off quickly. “It ain’t nothin’. Don’t make it awkward, man.”

Glenn cleared his throat and thanked him as he opened the present. He wasn’t really surprised to see what was clearly a well-used and second-hand knife inside, sheathed in worn black leather. The blade was at least three inches long. He had no idea what the hell he was going to do with it. “Thanks.” He said again, looking up to catch his neighbor’s eye and making sure he understood that the gesture was appreciated, if bizarre.

“Figured ya ain’t got one.”

“I… do not.” Glenn confirmed, ignoring the way his mom was swallowing down a snort of laughter at his expense. 

“It’ll be useful when we go campin’ next week, at any rate.” Daryl informed him, nodding at his family and heading for the door with quick steps. Glenn wasn’t sure when he’d apparently agreed to a camping trip, but shrugged it off, following him quickly to catch Daryl in the hallway before he’d made it inside his own apartment. Daryl unlocked his door but waited with his head half turned to see what Glenn had to say. 

“Thanks for… putting up with that. I know my family can be a bit much.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Glenn identified that the moment the words were out of his mouth, so similar to the ones he’d said the day before, and Daryl’s face scrunched up into a vicious snarl. For the briefest moment, Glenn thought he might hit him before he swung his arm out in a careless swooping gesture. “Why the hell are ya here when ya’ve got that to go home to?” Daryl yelled unexpectedly loud.

Glenn blinked back at him. “It’s complicated.” He began, growing a little angry himself because he’d just sat through his whole family coming down hard on him for his own life decisions for another hour and Daryl was acting like he was the one out of line. “They don’t respect my choices or-” 

Daryl once again cut him off, this time by sliding through the gap in the door and slamming it in his face. 

Glenn was a little angry as he went back inside, and of course there were no more chairs left at his place since Annabelle had apparently decided his games were no longer fun without Daryl and stolen the empty seat. She scooted over, though, and patted the small space beside her, which Glenn accepted so he could perform a proper slump. 

“Trouble in paradise?” His youngest sister asked, nudging him in the side with her elbow. 

Glenn huffed at her behavior. “He’s just acting really strange. Friendly and polite to you. Dickwad to me all of a sudden. I don’t get it.”

“Can I tell you what I think?” Karen asked, waiting until Glenn looked at her and nodded his consent before she slipped into her analyzation mode. “If I had to guess, based on his behavior today and what you’ve told me about him, I think this is the first time he’s seen family dynamics like ours.”

“Like where you tease me for stupid shit and he joins in?” 

“Like where people care about each other.” Karen clarified solemnly. “I would be very surprised if he didn’t suffer severe neglect as a child, at a minimum. My guess is that it was much worse than that and whatever happened has never been properly dealt with.”

It was a surprise to hear, though maybe it shouldn’t have been. Glenn didn’t doubt Karen’s conclusions, not because she’d likely studied many similar cases but because he could see how an interpretation like that explained Daryl’s otherwise baffling behavior. Glenn had never in his life considered what happened to a victim of child abuse when they became an adult. In his mind, it had always been a horrible, terrible crime that happened in isolation. A child suffered once or for years, left to fend for themselves or intentionally hurt, and then the perpetrator was caught and punished while the child was moved to a safe place to get proper care and therapy. That’s what child abuse was for Glenn. But what if the perpetrator wasn’t caught, the child grew up like that and there was no safety and no therapy? You might get someone like Daryl. 

“You really think that?” Annabelle asked quietly. 

“There are many case studies on people who survived substantial abuse as a child.” Karen commented somewhat evasively. “Of course, I only mention it to help you, Glenn. If true, it’s a deeply personal issue for him.”

Glenn turned to his mom. “You knew.” It wasn’t a question. The only question was how long she’d known.

“It occurred to me.” Kyung-hee replied. “He was confused by our hug. Among other things.”

“He was upset that you don’t act like you appreciate your family.” Susie surmised. “He practically said as much.”

“I love you guys.” Glenn defended, not abashed by the proclamation. 

“We know that,” Susie assured, “but I don’t think he knows what that looks like.” 

“I’d say it’s unlikely he’s progressed beyond Maslow’s basic needs. He values skills like survival because he’s never had the opportunity to really leave survival mode.” Karen pushed the cardboard box with the knife in it, sliding it across the table until it was seated in front of Glenn. Glenn eyed the worn yet well-cared for knife, realizing now that its significance was much greater than he’d originally thought. 

 


	11. Now - Jim

 

_ “I’m scared.” The little boy with wide brown eyes said, tugging his sleeping bag higher until it was just under his nose.  _

_ “Nobody is going to hurt you.” Jim responded, patting the five year old’s head and ruffling his hair affectionately. Traveling was slow with all the crowds and the chaos, but if everything went according to plan, they’d soon reach a place where he’d no longer have to coax his family to sleep because they would be safe and protected. “I won’t let them.” _

_ Damien was already passed out on the other side of his brother and Jim leaned forward to give him a kiss goodnight as well. He moved quietly across the living room floor to settle next to his wife against the side of the colorful, frayed couch, retrieving his baseball bat and setting it beside them. “I’m scared, too.” She whispered in his ear.  _

_ He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Nobody’s going to hurt you.” He whispered back. He didn’t know it was a lie. He didn’t know it was the biggest lie there is. _

Jim trailed after Shane through the woods in a daze. This wasn’t anything new. Jim had felt like he was in a daze for weeks now with varying phases of coherency. His mind had never escaped that old house with the checkered furniture, resting beside the lifeless forms of his family even if his body had refused to perish and fled of its own accord. 

He tried to pull himself into the present. People were counting on him to watch their backs and keep them alive. Shane halted, nodding towards a tree and spinning himself into its shadow. Jim followed suit, tucking himself behind another tree and watching as Red did the same a few paces behind him. He wasn’t sure if Red was really her name. A tall, broad-shouldered black woman with long thick hair wasn’t exactly what came to mind when Jim heard the name Shane kept using to address her. She was, however, wearing a flaming bright red shirt. Jim wondered if Walkers could differentiate colors, if the outfit was any more likely to give her position away, and if it mattered at all when the Walkers seemed to follow their nose as much as their eyes. 

The Walker shuffled through the trees several feet in front of Shane, a decrepit looking little blond girl, whose appearance made Jim’s heart stutter until he realized that the hair was too long and the limbs too wide to be Carol’s daughter. They waited as it made its way onward, drawn by some unseen force to keep moving, feet dragging dead leaves along the ground with it. 

There were numerous Walkers roaming the area, enough to make this entire trip perilous, but none of them wanted to turn around before they found their missing people. Jim wondered if either of the other teams had headed back early rather than continue forward. Shane was brave, yet careful in his leadership, keeping up a quick pace as often as possible, but they still hadn’t progressed very far into the woods with how frequently they were forced to stop. 

Some leaves crunched behind him, but Jim didn’t immediately jump at the noise having come to rely on Red watching his back, her tread not as quiet as he’d like but a distinct comfort regardless. Until there was a low growl nearby. Jim twisted, raising the bat in his hand and nearly clobbering Red as she stabbed her self-made spear through the head of a Walker just a few feet away. He nodded his thanks, and she nodded back as she drew her knife and made another small nick in the wood beside a growing line of tallies. 

They caught up to Shane who was frowning at them. “That was close,” he muttered when they close enough to hear, “way too close.”

“I’m okay.” Jim replied. It was the same lie he’d been telling himself since he’d left his family to be eaten, but it wasn’t a big lie, so it hardly counted at all. 

“Look,” Shane grimaced, checking to make sure there weren’t any more Walkers close enough to hear. “I want to find that girl as much as anyone, but this place is crawling and it’s going to get someone else killed. What if that one that nearly got Jim had been part of one of those groups. We can take on two or three, maybe even four or five, but some of these groupings are a lot bigger than that.” Shane bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s been forty-five minutes. I say we call it.”

“It’s been forty-five minutes. Let’s give it the other fifteen.” Red argued, looking around uncomfortably. “Then at least I can go back with a clear conscience.” 

“Jim?” Shane asked, obviously hoping he’d agree to leaving and make it a group decision. 

Jim wondered if it was his fault that Sophia was missing. After all, he’d told Lori to keep her son close because it was an opportunity to do better by his own sons, but he hadn’t instructed Carol to keep her daughter close. Maybe if she’d kept that in the back of her mind, Jim wouldn’t be out here looking for a lost girl right now. Or maybe children simply couldn’t survive in this new world and it was only a matter of time. “Let’s give it the other fifteen.”

Shane frowned, but he kept his complaints to himself, trying to shrug it off with nonchalance before pressing forward, leading the way with careful, sure steps. Shane walked like Jim’s wife. Not the masculine swagger or the long strides or the gait, but he could see it in his confidence, poise, and readiness. That woman had had a drive that would have taken her from a pediatric nurse to head of pediatrics at Grady Memorial had the world lasted long enough for her to get past late nights studying at the kitchen table. 

When Shane stopped them again, there was no question of continuing onward. A herd, hundreds strong, moved like sheep without a shepherd, collecting together and pushing forward with no discernable organization. They lumbered along across their path, a river more fraught than the worst white-water rapids. The sight struck terror into Jim’s heart, throwing him back to that night where survival could only be found through sacrifice, and he took a shaky step backward, jerking when Red set a hand on his arm in concern. 

Shane slunk quietly along until he reached Jim and Red, gesturing back the way they came. This time there were no arguments. Shane took less care in avoiding the Walkers as they hurried back to their group. Jim wasn’t sure if it was simply an urge to get as far away from the herd as possible or if he found it safer to take down the Walkers now that he had a better idea of what was around them, or perhaps Shane wanted them to get practice defending themselves. Whatever the reason, if the Walker was alone, Shane had them loop around the back of the Walker while he charged at it head on with his crowbar. Jim wondered if it would have even occurred to them to try these other weapons had they been traveling woods further away from the city. The emphasis thus far had been on acquiring and training in firearms.

The route they took toward the highway was not the same one they’d used before; instead, they decided to veer closer to the center of the search grid in an effort to cover more ground on the way back. They’d made good progress and were likely more than halfway back when Red stopped them abruptly, pointing at the ground off to the side. “See that?”  
It took Jim a moment to lock onto what she was talking about, and Shane was already moving towards it before Jim even identified the item first as a pack, and then as Daryl’s bag. He hurried after the cop, hoping they hadn’t somehow managed to lose another member of their group today. The mechanic arrived just in time to snag onto the back of Shane’s shirt as the man started slipping on the soft earth, nearly tumbling into the deep ravine below their feet. Shane stumbled back towards more solid ground, bag in hand, and grabbed hold of a sapling as he peered over the ledge. 

“Fuck.” 

Jim followed suit and looked down into the gorge. Down at the base by a small stream was Daryl, the redneck sprawled and still on the dirt, a wooden bolt protruding from his side but crossbow nowhere to be seen. “Think he’s dead?” Jim asked hesitantly. There was no way to tell if he was breathing from here. 

“He’s got company.” Red declared, pointing at three Walkers who had just noticed Daryl’s presence in the ravine with them. “He must have fallen recently. Either that, or the Walkers just stumbled on him. He’s very lucky. If he’s alive.”

He lay there unmoving, blissfully unaware of the monsters creeping in closer.

_ He lay there unmoving, him and his brother both, bundled up in blankets and fast asleep. Jim didn’t know that there were dozens of monsters creeping in closer towards the sliding glass door, movement cloaked by the dark of the night and drawn to the flickering fire in the living room chimney. His boys, unconscious to the world, didn’t know either, not until they burst through the glass like it was made of plywood, falling on top of each other in their eagerness to reach their prey. There were so many, more than he’d seen in one place before. _

“Motherfucker had better still be alive.” Shane grumbled. “Jim, try to get their attention, keep it off him. Red and I will loop around that way, it looks like there’s an easier slope over there. Fire if you’ve got to, but only as a last resort.”

Jim nodded as they took off, kicking up dead leaves, and hoped it wouldn’t come to using the gun Rick had given him. He barely knew how the thing operated. Jim looked around him to confirm he was alone before raising his hands above his head and shouting for the Walkers’ attention in the ravine. For a moment, they ignored him, continuing to head toward the hunter lying vulnerable a few feet away. Jim cursed, wondering what was taking Shane so long, even though it’d only been a few seconds. He chanced shouting louder before he picked up a rock at his feet and lobbed it at the closest Walker. 

Nailing it directly in the head finally seemed to grab its attention and the Walker looked up at him before changing direction towards the stark incline, an incline Jim hoped was too steep for it to climb. The other Walkers teetered off in the new direction as well, and Jim cheered at his own success.

And then Daryl groaned, shifting around a moment and bringing a hand to his head. The sudden noise had one of the Walkers turning around and dropping to its knees, fumbling toward Daryl. Jim shouted even louder, desperate to grab its attention back or get the hunter to respond. 

“Daryl!” Jim screamed. “You have to get up! Now!”

The Walker clamped down on Daryl’s shoe, knocking it back and forth like a dog with a beefstick. Jim swallowed, wondering if it was digging deep enough to reach his flesh, if it only looked like his shoe from this angle. Jim ducked down to grab another rock to throw at the Walker, feeling the air whoosh over his back as a geek swung for him. He could smell it now, hear it growling and gnashing its teeth, all clues he’d missed in his single-minded focus on helping Daryl. Jim spun around and snapped upright, heart thundering at how very close it’d gotten. He’d only narrowly missed being dinner himself. Rotten fingers clutched into his overshirt, pulling him closer to the gaping mouth. He knocked the rock still clutched in his hand against the Walker’s head and followed up with a swing from his bat to get the Walker on the ground. He brought it down again to finish the job once it was prone.

There was no time to process as several more Walkers rushed him, brought to the spot by his own squawking. He’d been too engrossed in trying to protect Daryl that he hadn’t even realized how much danger he’d put himself in. Taking a step back, Jim knocked two corpses over in one mighty swing, turned and shoved another away, but there were still more coming. He took another step backward as he reached for his gun and slipped on the soft ground, a rock tumbling out from under his feet. Jerking forward, Jim tried to regain his footing, but he was terribly off balance. He dropped straight to the dirt, sliding swiftly over the ledge. He lost hold of his gun and his bat, but with his hands free, he could now scrabble in the soft soil for purchase. 

Just before Jim followed Daryl into the ravine, he finally latched onto a root, clutching tightly and gasping for breath after the scare. He knew he still wasn’t in the clear because the root could give at any moment and there were Walkers waiting below and above him. Two Walkers were already stooped over the edge trying to grab hold of him, and a third tumbled clumsily by, shaking dirt and rocks loose. 

Jim could see his salvation just a foot away, a stable looking trunk that could hold his weight and led to an easier path of trees to climb down properly. He shifted to reach out for the spot anyway, but jerked his hand back as a Walker nearly got hold of him. He gripped the root with both hands, and twisted his hips to look down. All of the Walkers had their attention on him, which he supposed was a good thing. It was, after all, his original objective. If Shane and Red would just get here already, they might both make it out of this alive. 

Another Walker slipped over the edge and fell, loosening the dirt even further. The root Jim was clinging to gave some and he eyed the other handhold and the Walker hounding it like a guard dog.   
“Daryl!” Jim shouted again. “Come on, man! I need you!”

Like he’d said some sort of magic words, Daryl jerked back to life, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him. He scooted backwards quickly, tearing his foot out of the Walker’s mouth, ripping out a buck knife and plunging it into the decaying skull. The hunter didn’t hesitate over his victory, either, rolling onto his feet like the wound in his side hardly phased him, and looking desperately around in a circle before feeling his way through a muddy puddle of water beside him. A moment later, he produced his crossbow, cursing when there were no bolts remaining in the holder. Jim cursed too. Daryl would have to get through the four Walkers waiting at his heels to reach the weapons Jim had just dropped. 

The root gave a little more, and Jim twisted back around so he could dig his toes into the ground and give himself more leverage and take some weight off the root. His feet could hardly gain any traction. He reached out toward the next hold, desperately trying to avoid the Walker that was intent on chewing on that hand, but if he was going to fall and get mangled by the four monsters waiting for him or get one bite on his hand, Jim knew which option was preferable. 

A bolt pierced the Walker’s skull, and it flopped over. Jim made quick work of shifting into the new position and started to make his way down the slope. Another Walker tumbled down the slope beside him, but it wasn’t close enough to disrupt his climb. 

As he neared the bottom, Daryl’s voice greeted him. “Hey, ya ugly bastards, come on an’ follow me.”

Jim caught sight of Daryl, waving his arms and trying to grab the Walkers’ attention from him as their meal taunted them right out of reach. They turned, one after another, as if registering that he would be easier to reach, and all five of them lumbered after him. Jim could see that his crossbow was still empty and unloaded, but he was holding his knife at the ready and backing up. Jim’s eyes landed on the wound bleeding freely in his side and the distinct lack of projectile inside of him. The hunter must’ve yanked it out on his own to use when he saw the danger Jim was in. 

Unwilling to let the opportunity go to waste, Jim scrambled down the embankment and quickly located his bat. He looked around for his gun, but he wasn’t sure where it’d landed. Another body tumbled off the ledge, and two more after that and they started crawling after him. Jim turned and beat one’s head with a violent rage.

But the noise behind them had attracted attention, and the small group of Walkers between Daryl and Jim suddenly split. Now, Jim was facing Walkers on either side of him and he was certain he wouldn’t manage to survive, despite Daryl knifing the nearest ones.

At first, Jim didn’t recognize the gunshots for what they were, even as the Walkers started going down around him. Shane and Red had arrived. “Sorry we got held up. Guess we shouldn’t have wasted so much time keeping it quiet.”

“I’m not going to complain about your timing.” Jim assured as he took the opportunity to join the group and relative safety. They immediately started pulling back the way they came, leaving the Walkers behind them be in favor of hurrying towards the exit, pacing a good distance along the base of the ravine before Jim could spot the more accessible area. It would still be practically climbing, but it would be easier to do, particularly for Daryl who was probably jarring from every step. 

Shane halted abruptly, causing them all to stop before they ran into him. Jim followed his eyeline to see that there were Walkers everywhere. They must have been drawn in by the noise as they’d feared. There were at least a dozen on the path that would lead them out of the ravine. Shane brought his gun back up and fired, Red following suit. They cleared out the nearest and then the small group pressed forward, stopping again to fire until they ran out of bullets about halfway up. 

“Just going to have to use what you’ve got.” Shane declared as they shifted into a single file line. Jim nearly commented on Daryl pulling up the rear, but the redneck wasn’t exactly the sort that could be reasoned with, so he just concentrated on covering the man as best he could. He wasn’t sure it mattered anyway. It didn’t look like they’d be making it out of this one alive.

Jim recognized the sound of gunfire this time, though he was less sure where it was coming from. It took him a moment to locate Rick and his group, removing the Walkers they were struggling to take down in close combat. Rick’s aim was excellent, using exactly one bullet per Walker and clearing them a proper path. Andrea was beside him, firing into the crowd of Walkers as well, but her success was less distinct. Amy was watching their backs with a hatchet at the ready. 

Daryl collapsed suddenly beside him, and Jim swung at the Walker he’d been fighting, bringing it down and only belatedly recognizing Andrea’s mantra. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Rick was tight lipped with anger as he took the gun from Andrea’s hand, his own empty of bullets, and jogged over to Daryl. Jim rolled him onto his back, noting the bloodied mess along the side of Daryl’s head, but that the wound didn’t look lethal. If it didn’t get infected, he’d probably be fine. He tugged off his flannel and wrapped the wound in Daryl’s side, tying it tightly to stem the bleeding that the hunter had blatantly ignored. 

“We’ve got to move.” Shane said, insistently. Jim glanced up and swallowed hard. He didn’t know if it was the same herd they’d run into before, just shifted direction or if it was a new group of Walkers, but they wouldn’t last a minute among that many, even if they still had fully loaded guns. 

“Right.” Rick stood and checked his bullets, eyeing the quickly approaching herd with trepidation. “Amy, Andrea, run ahead and tell them to get ready to leave the minute we’re back. Shane, you and Jim will have to carry him. Red, keep any Walkers off of them. I’ll watch our backs.”

Daryl was no lightweight, and it didn’t take long for Jim’s arms and shoulders to burn with the extra pressure of the hunter’s unconscious body slung between them. It threw off his balance and forced him to walk at an odd angle, and he felt the pressure creeping down his spine. He grit his teeth and ignored his discomfort to try and quicken his pace to better match Shane’s. Daryl had ripped a bolt through his own side to protect Jim, and he wasn’t prepared to return the favor by leaving him behind to die. He wasn’t going to leave anyone behind ever again. 

_ Jim wasn’t as quick as his wife, who’d bolted awake and leapt across the room with more agility than the average gymnast. Instead, he’d skittered across the floor, limbs uncooperative and unwilling to make up their mind as he fell on the rest of his family. Grabbing hold of the two closest limbs and yanking hard, Jim was desperate to get them away from the writhing, growling mass. For a moment, it was like a twisted game of tug-of-war, Jim digging in his heels and gripping hard enough to leave bruises while teeth and nails and claws latched on the other side and pulled back, pulling them right out of his hands.  _

_ They were screaming, begging for him to help, wails high and desperate piercing the night air. Until they weren’t. Jim watched, frozen in his spot, as the monsters tore open skin and ripped out organs, biting into flesh. He had no idea how long he stood there except that it was long enough to take in every detail of his sons and his wife as they began to be devoured.  _

_ He didn’t come to his senses when the first of the Walkers that couldn’t fit in to feed on his family slipped past the writhing mass to lurch towards him. He didn’t find a way to make sure they wouldn’t come back. He didn’t give them a proper burial. He didn’t do any of the things a good husband and father should. Jim just let his instincts take over and ran. _

Rick used up the last of the bullets in Andrea’s gun quickly and shifted to swinging a tire iron as the Walkers got too close to them. “They’re catching up.” He cursed before sprinting in front of Jim, picking up Daryl’s legs and holding them on either side of his hips. Jim readjusted his grip as he cautiously looked around. “Move!” Rick ordered, and they all started to jog. It wasn’t much further back to the highway, and Jim kept himself focussed on his goal with determination, puffing out deep breaths of exertion. 

By the time they reached the asphalt, T-Dog’s van was already barreling down the road, another of their cars following suit. Jim could hear the RV turn over as they worked their way over the median. His muscles burned. Andrea had stopped to guard their progression, probably out of guilt for causing their current situation, and she took down two Walkers in quick succession that got too close.

“I can’t just leave!” Carol shrieked as Red pushed her resisting form towards the RV. “She’s still out there!”

“You can’t keep looking if you’re dead.” Jacqui stated succinctly, her tone firm but not unkind. “That… that herd will tear our cars apart. We have to go now!”

Jim glanced over his shoulder to see how it looked and swallowed hard. Dozens of Walkers were chasing them, and there were many more behind those, snarling and growling in anticipation of a meal. It was like watching an army streaming from the forest. 

“Lori? Carl?” Rick demanded urgently.

“Everyone’s accounted for, ‘cept Sophia and Glenn.” Jacqui reported waiting until the last second, after everyone else had piled into the vehicle to close the door and yelled for Dale to take off. Walkers were already pounding on the side and those first few jerking bounces as they started down the road were probably not speed bumps. 

Jim stumbled and nearly fell several times as he weaved through the RV with his heavy burden and heaved Daryl onto the bed before panting in exhaustion for a few minutes. When he’d caught his breath, he followed Rick and Shane to the larger compartment to address what had happened in the woods.

“Fucking shit.” Shane gasped. “That bastard weighs a ton.” 

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, stretching out to get the kinks out of his back, “but it’s probably for the best Andrea shot him. Don’t know how we’d have got him to leave Glenn lost out there if he were conscious.” 

“Andrea shot Daryl?” Jacqui asked, sounding half bewildered, half impressed.

“It was an accident. I was aiming for the Walker attacking him.” Andrea protested.

“It’s just a graze.” Rick assured. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, we need some real shooting lessons all around.” Shane commented, rubbing out his own shoulders as he eyed Andrea. “And better safety protocols. He was surrounded. Damn near got himself killed falling down a ravine. And that was before the Walkers found him.”

“I feel awful about it. I could have killed him.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Dale shouted to be heard from his driver’s seat. “We’ve all wanted to shoot Daryl.”

There were several snorts of laughter at the comment, relieving the tension briefly before Carol brought them back to reality. “You didn’t find her? What are we going to do?”

Rick straightened and rested a comforting hand on Carol’s shoulder. “We didn’t see her, but Daryl was carrying her doll, so we know we’re on the right track. Chances are, Glenn’s got her and they’ve found a place to hole up for the night. We’ll come back tomorrow when that herd clears out and look again. Hell, the CDC may even have people they can spare to help in the search.” 

Jim couldn’t remember seeing Sophia’s doll on Daryl, but his mind had been awfully busy at the time. He considered that Rick might even be lying in an attempt to ease the woman’s fears, right until the cop produced the doll and handed it to Carol, who clutched it to her chest with shaking arms.

“And what if Sophia comes back on her own?” Carol pointed out, not willing to abandon the possibility. “What if she comes back and we’re not there?”

“Your car is there. She’ll recognize it and stay put. We’re going to find her."

“Guys?” Jim interrupted. “Someone should probably take a look at him. That bolt went straight through his side.”

“Idiot should’ve left it in. He’s lucky he didn’t bleed out.” Shane grumbled.

“You got a first aid kit in here?” Jacqui asked, retrieving it from under a seat when Dale directed her to it. Following at her heels, Carol asked after a sewing kit and moved with Jacqui towards the bedroom.

Jim frowned. “He saved my life. He pulled it out so he could save my life.” 

“Oh, you can’t possibly believe that bullshit.” Shane said, shaking his head. Rick turned in surprise at the unexpected comment as well. “Your life was only in danger because of him. It was goddamn reckless going out there by himself. He put every one of us in danger with this stupid tough-guy act. If he’d have waited ten minutes and gone with a group, we wouldn’t have had to fire, and bring that whole herd down on us. We had to call off that search because of him.”

Shane had a point, Jim decided quickly. It was stupid, and reckless, and Daryl was immensely lucky to be alive at all. But Shane had called off that search long before they found Daryl, and Jim knew he was the type to cut losses and protect those closest to him at the cost of others. He also knew that Shane was the type that wouldn’t take kindly to Jim pointing that out. “I’m going to see if I can help.” Jim replied instead, joining Carol and Jacqui in tending to the archer.

Jim found himself once again trying to lift and maneuver Daryl’s body so Carol could get a better look at the wound in his back, shirt dragged up under his armpits. “Is this good?” He had to ask twice, but Carol wasn’t responding. Jim glanced up to see Carol quietly staring at Daryl’s back. “Is this good?” He asked again. 

Carol jerked to attention as he leaned over to see what the matter was. Had Daryl been bit at some point that he hadn’t seen? “Yes, thank you.” Carol redirected him before he could see. “Please get me some water to clean the area.” 

Jim hovered at the foot of the bed afterward with Jacqui, watching as Carol cleaned around the wound, threading a needle and didn’t hesitate to stick the injured man with it.  Daryl jerked into consciousness, grasping for a knife that Carol had wisely removed before she started and lurching away from his caretaker. “Hold still.” The woman instructed, firmly gripping his hip to keep him from writhing away. “I need to patch you up.” 

Even from a distance, Jim could see the way Daryl tensed, but he stilled, even when Carol returned to sliding the needle through his skin. Jim cringed for him, wondering if it hurt more to stab yourself with a bolt straight through your abdomen or get sewed up afterward. At least the stabbing was quick. 

“I want you to know,” Carol started, taking full advantage of her captive audience, “you did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.”

Daryl grunted. “Was lookin’ for Glenn.” 

Carol didn’t appear offended. She even smiled softly behind Daryl’s back. “You found her doll.”

“They’re together.”

The whole room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn’t warranted. Jim knew they could just as easily be dead together as apart, but at least Sophia wasn’t alone out there. If they hadn’t been found by any of the ten people that went out looking for them in a woods crawling with Walkers, Jim held little hope that they would be found alive. Sophia and Glenn were most likely dead already, but at least they hadn’t had to spend their last minutes alone. 

Of course, Jim didn’t know if this was the sort of comfort the way everyone else saw it. His family hadn’t been alone. Would it have made any difference at all for them if he hadn’t been there for them to cry out to?

Daryl brushed off Carol’s hands as soon as the last of the stitches were finished on both sides and ignored her complaints as he rolled back to his feet. He tugged right his clothes and lumbered towards the front of the RV, balancing himself against the sides of the swaying car and clutching at his stomach like he just realized the whole experience had been painful. Jim followed a few paces behind, ready to catch him if needed. 

“Gotta turn ‘round.” The hunter demanded loudly. 

Rick stood and stepped towards him, looking him in the eye. “That place was overrun. We’re not going back tonight.”

“Fuck that. I found her doll, was on their trail.”

“You found her doll, Daryl. That’s what you nearly died for. A doll.” Shane cut in, walking towards them and folding his arms over his chest. “And then we risked our lives saving your ass.”

“Screw you, man!” Daryl pushed forward angrily, Rick stepping between them, holding out a hand to stop him, but Daryl batted it away immediately. “Get your hands off me!”

“I don’t blame you.” Rick said in almost a tangent, stopping Daryl’s anger with surprise. “He’s family. I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel.” They all jerked to the side from an unexpected bump, and Daryl gripped harder at his side. Jim inched closer. “We can find them together, but only if we keep a level head.”

“I could do that.” Daryl responded tightly.

“If they’re alive -” 

“They are!” 

“If they’re alive,” Rick began again, louder, “they’ve found a good spot to hunker down in. But we go back now, at dusk with hundreds of Walkers, we’re going to get ourselves killed. We’ll return tomorrow morning, with help from the CDC, and we’ll find them. I owe Glenn my life, and that’s a debt I intend to repay.”

As if on cue, the RV began to slow, drawing to a halt behind the white van. “We’re here.” Dale called. Jim filed out of the vehicle behind everyone else, bat at the ready as he took in the scene. This was a bad idea. Bodies littered the ground, many wearing military garb, and surely if the military was running this place, they wouldn’t have left them out to rot and bring that horrible stench to their doorstep. Many of them were half eaten, like the food was no longer appetizing after it stopped struggling.

_ They weren’t struggling when he turned away from them for the last time, when he saw what was left for the last time. He told himself they were dead, over and over, because somehow life had turned into this nightmare where that was preferable than the alternative. _

The light that brought him back to the present was so bright and so white that for a moment, Jim thought they were being greeted at the pearly gates of heaven. An angel in a white labcoat and rifle was there to usher them inside. 

Dr. Jenner, it turned out, was the only man in the CDC left, which he told them over a dinner that nearly made Jim forget that the world had ended. Maybe it was just the hunger talking, but he was certain he hadn’t tasted anything this delicious since Before. Everything he’d put in his mouth had tasted like ash since. “When things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, and the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted.” 

“Every last one?”

“No. Many couldn’t face walking out the door. They opted out. There was a rash of suicides.” 

After, Jenner offered them rooms to sleep in, showers to use, games to play, books to read, and just about everything Jim could remember missing except the things that actually mattered.  He stared at the showerhead for five whole minutes before wandering back out into the hallway and into a recreation room. Carol and Daryl were sprawled on a couch together looking cozier than either of them probably felt. Daryl had his head cushioned on the armrest and his feet propped up in Carol’s lap. Jacqui was perched on the other armrest with her hand on Carol’s shoulder, patting comfortingly. Jim sat on the floor, leaning up against a bookshelf. 

“I wanted to thank you.” Jim said into the quiet of the room because Daryl had his eyes closed but he didn’t think the man could fall asleep with so many people close by. “For saving my life.” He wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t have damaged himself further on Jim’s behalf, that there was a part of him that was disappointed at surviving the encounter. But those weren’t things you said to someone after they saved your life.

Daryl grunted. 

It was quiet for several more minutes before Andrea and Amy arrived together, padding quietly into the room. Andrea looked a little nervous, particularly as Daryl eyed her. She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry I shot you. I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, you an’ me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but if there’s anything I can do -”

“You gonna help us look tomorrow?” Daryl cut in, tone as sharp as ever.

“Of course.” Andrea nodded slowly, like she was wondering if that was somehow the wrong answer. “I won’t be using my gun.”

“We’re good. But hey, shoot me again, an’ you’d best pray I’m dead.”

Amy and Andrea shared a look, both squashing down laughter in case it riled Daryl back up, and hurriedly leaving the room. There was giggling floating back towards them after they exited, and Jim felt a muffled sort of jealousy that they could so easily resolve their problems. That they still had each other. 

“Daryl…” Carol started up cautiously.

“For fuck’s sake.” Daryl moaned, half rolling and half bending to try to stand up with minimal pain. “This place was supposed to be quiet. ‘M better off tryin’a sleep with them Walkers up top.” Near the door, he seemed to think better of his gruff and dismissive behavior. Perhaps he remembered that Carol was largely in the same boat as himself. Whatever the case, he paused before exiting to say, “Need rest, so’s I can find ‘em tomorrow.”

Carol excused herself almost immediately after under the same premise, but they all knew there was no chance Carol would manage to get to sleep that night. Jim sent up a silent prayer that he was wrong, that Sophia would be returned to her mother safely, that there were miracles.

Jacqui shifted off the armrest until she was curled up on a cushion. “That wasn’t what you wanted to tell Daryl, was it?” Her expression was perceptive and thoughtful.

“He’s kind of an asshole.” Jim said with a shrug. 

“He’s kind of an asshole.” Jacqui agreed. “But maybe not a bad guy.”

“I didn’t want to discourage him from helping people.”

“But you wish he hadn’t helped you?” It was less of a question than it might have been from someone else. 

Shifting, Jim stood, slowly stretched his back and sat back down on the couch, pretending like the action wasn’t simply delaying the conversation. “I had a wife and two boys. I don’t anymore.”

Jacqui’s eyes are nothing but understanding as she caught his gaze and gave him a soft, gentle smile. “I can’t shake the numbers. There were thirty-two of us at the quarry, then twenty-seven, then twenty-one, then nineteen. We’re at fifteen now. It doesn’t go up, it only goes down, and I’m tired. I’m tired of watching and counting.”

When Jim’s eyes land on the large black clock with red numbers tumbling unerringly downward the following morning, it’s not an epiphany, it’s just a natural conclusion. It’s not a hard choice to sit in the rolling chair and clasp his hands with Jacqui and Jenner. 

Jim smiles for what he thinks must be the first time since he lost his family. “We don’t have to count them anymore.”


	12. Before

Daryl gave him an odd look as he dropped the canvas bag into the truck bed. Glenn blinked. “What?”

“What ya got a tent for? Thought ya hated campin’.”

Glenn shrugged, then pivoted to grab another bag, avoiding eye contact with his neighbor. Eye contact would be his downfall. Eye contact and he’d spill his guts about purchasing the tent specifically for this trip with a little slush money Karen left him for the cause. “I mean, we’re camping, we need a tent, right?”

Daryl shrugged, placing his own backpack beside Glenn’s. “Too warm to need protection from windchill. All a tent’s gonna do is keep the bugs off ya.” 

Should he not have spent the money? He still had the receipt, he could return it if Daryl insisted they do without. Frowning, Glenn tried to keep his nervousness to a minimum. Did his friend really expect him to go sleep out in the woods without so much as a tent? Bug protection seemed like a good enough reason to him. Also, some instinctual part of him insisted it would at least slow down all the bears that wanted to eat him. Were there bears around here? “You don’t want to bring a tent?” 

“Nah,” Daryl grunted. “‘S good. We use what we got an’ we got it.”

Glenn breathed a sigh of relief, tossing Daryl his keys so he could drive them to whatever location he’d picked out for their trip. It was still dark, the pre-dawn air crisp and chill as they headed out of the city and into Daryl’s home terf. Glenn tried to steel himself for whatever was coming next, knowing that Daryl’s idea of camping wasn’t likely to be as laid back as the Boy Scouts had been. He rubbed his palms over his pants a few times.

Daryl glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Ain’t walkin’ the plank. Just a weekend in the woods.” Daryl had offered him an easy out the day before, like he knew that city terrain flowed through Glenn’s veins as easily as the forest seemed to call to Daryl. Glenn hadn’t taken it because this trip meant something to Daryl. 

“It’s a huge step forward.” Karen had gushed over the idea when they’d discussed it over the phone a few nights ago. “He wants to give you the skills to protect yourself. It’s the most valuable thing to him, and he wants to share it with you. He’s letting you in and trying to keep you safe. You’re going on that trip.” So, Glenn agreed to go camping. He would let Daryl coach him in ridiculous and useless primitive survival skills because it was what he needed to do to start the healing process.

“I know. I’m just nervous.” Glenn shrugged, looking helplessly at Daryl’s profile as he drove. “When I was a kid, our first camping trip with the Boy Scouts, I went off by myself to check out the lake, and I got lost. Like, completely, hopelessly turned around. I was terrified I’d never find my way out again, and I’d never see my family again. It was hours before anyone noticed I was missing, and hours before they found me. I called my parents to pick me up that night, and I never went camping again. It still scares me, being so lost that you don’t know where to begin.”

Daryl was completely silent as Glenn told his story, and then settled on, “That’s exactly why ya gotta be out there. So ya can learn what to do. So ya can make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Easy for you to say.” Glenn huffed. “Bet you’ve never been lost in the woods.”

“I got lost.” Daryl was quick to correct. “Prolly as old as you was then. Nine days in the woods eatin’ berries an’ wipin’ my ass with poison oak.” 

“Jesus.” Glenn muttered, trying to contemplate enduring his terror for nine days instead of nine hours. “Took them long enough to find you. Must’ve been awful.”

“Weren’t no one lookin’. Made my own way back.” Glenn let the silence settle while he watched the sun rise, cresting the horizon and warming up the car and hoping Daryl might share a little more. “My old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doin’ ‘nother stint in juvie. Headed straight for the kitchen and made myself a sandwich, no worse for the wear.” Daryl smirked. “‘Cept my ass itched somethin’ awful.” 

Taken by surprise, Glenn laughed openly. “I’m sorry. That’s a terrible story.” 

Daryl strangely joined in with the laughter, and Glenn could see how the distance from the city and the rigors of society was already loosening him up, his shoulders unwinding and smile coming a little easier. “You’re gonna learn. Give it some time, an’ there won’t be nothin’ in the woods you can’t handle.”

Daryl didn’t take them to a campground with cabins, RVs and running water. He didn’t take them to a drive in, pitch a tent, partially paved campground, either. Daryl didn’t even take them to a trailhead with minimal tree markings for a vague notion of a route. Daryl took them to some random backroad where he parked on the grass beside the road, scooped up his backpack and took off into the unmarked landscape. Glenn was reasonably sure they were trespassing, and, if so, certain they’d be poaching soon, too.

They’d gone all of fifty yards when Daryl sighed in frustration. “You’re chasin’ everythin’ away. Pick up your feet when ya walk.” Glenn swallowed hard. If he was already facing critique on something so simple, this weekend was going to be absolute hell. “An’ if somethin’ ain’t gonna be scared of ya, you don’t wanna attract their attention, neither.”

The next twenty minutes were spent on proper instruction and practicing of walking, which Glenn was apparently doing all wrong. Glenn hadn’t even been thinking about how he was walking, which was somehow the worst crime of all. If he wasn’t paying attention, he could slip, or trip and hurt himself, Daryl insisted. He could miss important clues or destroy something useful. And he’d definitely be too loud to properly hunt. Dayl demonstrated with nearly silent footfalls among the dried leaves, and taught Glenn how to emulate the effect by doing things like properly distributing his weight and choosing his steps out of the periphery instead of walking in a straight line. 

It wasn’t an awful lesson. It was actually pretty interesting, and they swiftly upgraded to running lessons, with an emphasis on not tripping. Glenn fell over repeatedly, but Daryl openly laughing was worth the scrapes. Quick and quiet was something Glenn took to with ease and was the only skill he seemed to master over that first weekend. But when he was finally able to fly past Daryl with barely a sound, he was genuinely gleeful and proud of himself.

They moved along from walking lessons, and Glenn crept behind Daryl, trying his hardest to be completely silent, but Daryl always seemed to know where he was anyway, like his hearing was something superhuman. “We’ll grab a couple squirrels if nothin’ else pops up soon, but I’d rather get a rabbit. ‘S easier to skin, an’ I doubt ya got any experience.” 

Glenn gagged a little at the thought, glad that Daryl’s back was turned. He thought about the cans of beans he’d brought, real camping food he’d thought at the time, but decided not to bring them up. Instead, he concentrated on Daryl’s crossbow, at the ready now that he seemed to be tracking something and had zero control over the next question that popped out of his mouth. “Can I try it?” 

Daryl gave him a look over his shoulder that Glenn absolutely could not read. He fidgeted under the gaze and wondered if asking to touch a man’s bow was taboo as it suddenly sounded in his head. Daryl snorted out a laugh. “Not today, man. Got too much to learn already an’ I wanna eat somethin’.” Then he gestured down to a clear paw imprint in the mud. “See that?” 

Glenn nodded. “That the rabbit we’re after?” 

Daryl was staring hard at the ground with his eyes squinted and his mouth cracked open like he was trying to make out what Glenn was seeing. “Sure.” He finally settled on. “A 16 pound, 35 inch cottontail that don’t hop.” Glenn shrugged back at him helplessly. Thinking back on it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a rabbit before in real life. And how was he supposed to know if it was hopping? Daryl’s brow furrowed, and he chewed on the inside of his lip for a minute. “All right. Let’s keep it simple.” He stood up and took a step back before pointing to where he just was, his own boot tread clearly defined in the muddy ground. “Human.” He shifted and pointed to the original paw print. “Animal.”

“Got it.” Glenn squeaked back, his face burning in embarrassment. 

“Further apart the tracks, the faster they’re movin’. This fox here was hightailing it. Prolly heard us comin’.” Daryl shouldered his crossbow and looked around. “Most prints ain’t clear like that. So ya get a feel for its pace and its gait from what you can see, an’ then you look for signs of it ahead. Maybe an impression on leaves, or a broken twig on the ground. Real useful is once ya get its size in yer head, ya look higher up, branches broken or twisted, maybe fur caught in them.” Daryl redirected Glenn’s attention back the way they came. “Humans leave a lot behind, set a lot out of place. See our trail?” 

Glenn nodded, spotting some of the signs Daryl had mentioned, but only because he already knew where to look, noting where he’d knocked a mushroom loose and a few straggly branches sitting at an odd angle. 

“Good. Thought ya might be a lost cause for a minute there.” Daryl shuffled back around and must have found something he was looking for because he started to lead them forward again. “It’s easy to lose sight of things runnin’ ahead of ya in the woods. But ya figure out what yer lookin’ for an’ you’ll be sure to find ‘em again.”

Daryl’s tracking lessons basically ended there for the day, though it was a topic he revisited frequently later on, and Glenn could see why. It seemed to be integral to all of his other topics, even if the Korean never did learn much about telling which animal was which. Daryl wanted him to be aware of his surroundings: to note where their own tracks came from so they wouldn’t get lost, to notice when the tracks were big and heavy or grouped together like a pack and when best to evade possible predators, to keep an eye out for age and disruption and weather conditions. 

There were so many things Daryl seemed to notice in a single glance that Glenn was baffled how he could keep it all in his head and make sense of its importance. Was he naturally this perceptive or was it honed from years of being out in the woods? Did he get training or did he figure it all out on his own? Could he take in a scene with that surety in other context, like those cops at a crime scene on TV? For the first time, Glenn considered that Daryl might not just be a kind and generous man masquerading as an asshole, he may also be an intelligent man wearing the mask of a dumb hick. 

Daryl stopped abruptly and set down his bag and his crossbow. Glenn followed suit, glad to be rid of the heavy weight on his back, and stretching out eagerly. If he’d have known Daryl was going to make him run around with it for hours before stopping, he wouldn’t have brought the fucking tent at all. “You know the Rule of Three?”

“No?” Glenn said slowly. He remembered vaguely a lecture from his drama teacher in High School about comedy working best in sets of threes, but couldn’t fathom how that related to the topic at hand. 

“Three minutes without air, and yer dead. Three hours in extreme weather, and yer dead. Three days without water, and yer dead. Three weeks without food, and yer dead. Lotta people look for food first, but ya gotta prioritize right. ‘Less yer short on air, ya find shelter first thing.”

Glenn eyed the rabbit corpse dangling from Daryl’s belt from a string. “We got food first.” 

“Don’t be stupid. Ain’t nothin’ extreme ‘bout this place or this weather. ‘Sides, we got shelter right here.” Daryl kicked the tent bag with the side of his foot, then took out his canteen and took a long drink. “An’ brought our own water.” 

Daryl directed Glenn to set up the tent near an outcropping that would provide a windblock and extra security, and didn’t make fun of him as he stumbled through the assembly. “So if you don’t have a tent, what do you do for shelter?”

Daryl shrugged. “Depends on a lot of factors. Ya look at what your greatest risks are and the best way to avoid them. Just bugs, ya don’t need one. Hot fire will keep most of ‘em off ya. Bad winds and snow? See if ya can’t find a cave or a large burrow. Build a fire in there, an’ you’ll be fine. Don’t got that, you can make a lean-to real easy. I’ll show ya how later.”

“What about bears?” 

“Them black bears ‘round here ain’t gonna attack you. They’ll leave ya alone just fine so long as you don’t surprise them or run away when ya see them. The coyotes are way more likely to attack a human.”

“Coyotes?” Glenn squeaked, looking around at the woods like one was just going to appear out of nowhere. “Should I, like, climb a tree?”

“Just meant bears here are pretty docile. Coyotes are more aggressive and more likely to attack, but still not something they’re gonna wanna do. Make lots of noise and you’ll scare them away. If ya even see one. They’re nocturnal.” They finished setting up the tent, and Daryl immediately set to gathering some sticks and kindling. Glenn followed, not entirely sure what he was looking for but collecting sticks he found anyway.

“So, we’re pretty much safe out here?” 

“Didn’t say that. There’s poisonous plants and animals, rabid or atypical animals, sinkholes or landslides… Point is, nine times outta ten, a hunter gets hurt, it’s just a stupid accident. Didn’t watch their footing, or pay attention to their surroundings, or they just shot each other.”

Daryl dropped his sticks in a pile near the tent and took a hatchet from his pack to work at a fallen log. Glenn dropped his load before shoving his hands into his pockets, feeling a little useless.  “So what you’re saying is that we drive all the way out here into the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wild animals, and our biggest worry is people?” 

“Ain’t it always?” Daryl gave him a crooked smile. He dug out a space for the fire, cleared away nearby dead leaves and started stacking up some sticks. “No climbin’ trees to get away from them, though.”

Glenn glanced down at his green shirt and jeans. “Shouldn’t we be wearing vests or something?”

Daryl shrugged, and sat back. “No sign of other people out here.” He tugged out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, lighting it up with a practiced ease and taking a hefty drag from it before holding the cancer stick up to the kindling. 

“Not exactly how we did it in the Boy Scouts.” Glenn commented dryly, folding himself to sit in the dirt beside his friend. Daryl looking inquiringly at him. “We rubbed two sticks together. Tell me, is that even a thing?”

“It’s a thing. ’S not practical, but I’ll show ya a couple ways ya can start a fire without a lighter.” He glanced up at Glenn with a smirk. “Shame ya ain’t a real nerd, or we’d have some glasses to work with.” 

Glenn elbowed him like he was Annabelle and listened patiently to his instructions about the best way to get a fire going. It wasn’t as easy as Glenn had assumed, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever graduate to starting the fire without a lighter. He vowed to keep one on him like Daryl did. 

“Thing ya gotta ‘member ‘bout fires is when to start them. Super cold, you ain’t got a choice. But ya start a fire at night, an’ everythin’ ‘round ya is gonna be able to see ya an’ you won’t see them so good. Like wavin’ a flag.” Glenn wondered again if they were trespassing, and what consequences would be. 

Next, Daryl tried to instruct Glenn on how to skin an animal. Glenn tried hard to accept the task, but his stomach roiled over the idea of removing the skin from an adorable, fluffy bunny. He heaved and struggled not to throw up, passing the carcass back to his friend quickly. Daryl was not impressed. “Ya eat meat all the time. What’s the problem?”

“Yeah, meat, from the store. Prepared and packaged. They don’t slap a picture of Thumper on the front.” 

“Yer gonna watch this time and help me next time.” Daryl left no room for complaint.

“Yeah.” Glenn agreed, swallowing hard as the instructions moved on to organ removal. So gross. He chanted in his head as he watched, wondering if he’d ever be able to follow through on that promise to Daryl. 

Lunch was awkward as Glenn picked at his meat and wished for the beans in his bag. He was bound and determined to eat it so he could show his appreciation for the meal and everything Daryl was teaching him, but each bite was a struggle. When he finally finished, Daryl nudged him with his shoulder. “You get over it.” After eating, Daryl took Glenn out again in search of water. 

“Best way to find water is to listen for it.” Daryl stated, hand coming up in a flourish, like that statement spoke for itself. Glenn listened carefully, but couldn’t make anything out. He wondered if Daryl was just messing with him, but after a few minutes of traveling, he heard the distinct sounds of water trickling. “Moving water is best, but I’ll show you how to make a simple filter with a bottle some other time in case yer stuck with somethin’ pretty filthy. You can drink the stream water straight, but it’s always safer to boil first.”

On the way back to their little campsite, they travelled at a snail’s pace, Daryl pointing out about a hundred different things he should be paying attention to that would prevent him from getting lost and help him find his own way around the forest from the sun, the slope, the moss, the wind, the type of tree. “Your best strategy, though, is always going to be keeping your head up, taking in your surroundings and retracing your own steps as needed.”

Glenn felt like it was an unjust oversimplification to tell him that he just needed to be as perceptive as Daryl, and there was no way he’d get lost. Still, the idea of camping didn’t strike him with terror when Daryl was right there with him, and he’d just keep working at it until he no longer needed his neighbor’s calm, quiet voice to guide him through the woods.   

“Your knife skills still need a lot of work, but there’s somethin’ else you’ll need to know if yer gonna keep huntin’ with me.” Daryl declared as they were waiting for the pot of water to boil over their small campfire. Before Glenn could ask, Daryl produced a handgun and passed it over, handle first. 

“Uh…” Glenn complained, wanting to trust Daryl and also wanting to be a million miles away from the gun he was holding out to him. 

“Go on.” Glenn took it like it might bite him. “This here is the safety. Don’t touch it ‘til I say so. Barrel down at the ground ‘til yer ready to shoot somethin’, even if the safety is on. Never look down the barrel, even if it’s empty, an’ the safety is on. Don’t leave yer finger on the trigger, even if yer plannin’ to shoot. Don’t-”

“Hold on!” Glenn interrupted. “What’s this?”

“It’s a gun.” Daryl explained slowly, his expression an echo of the one he wore to look at the definitely-not-rabbit-tracks. “So’s you can hunt with me.”

“Why am I using a gun and you’re using a crossbow?” 

“Takes years to get any good at a crossbow. Gun’s are simpler, easy to learn, easy to get good at. Least for what we’re doin’. I just thought...” Daryl shrugged. “Wasn’t sure I’d have more than one weekend to teach ya.” 

Everything about this screamed terrible idea. For one, Glenn had never fired a gun before, and he wasn’t sure he’d be any good at what was expected of him. For another, he was pretty sure that hunters were supposed to use rifles, and while he wasn’t sure why that was, the small weapon in his hand felt more like a criminal’s weapon of choice. Which led him to the final concern. Where had Daryl gotten this? Did he carry it legally? Maybe it belonged to his brother, a convicted criminal, and now Glenn’s fingerprints were all over the thing. He took a deep breath. He was supposed to be helping Daryl heal. He was supposed to be changing people’s opinions on him. And to do that, he’d just have to trust Daryl, even if it seemed like a monumental task. “All right. Show me again. Safety on, barrel down, finger off the trigger…”

They packed up their stuff to leave in the late afternoon the following day, sweat making their clothes stick uncomfortably. Glenn was looking forward to a fresh change of clothes, and Daryl was no better off for spending the night in their stuffy tent and the day baking under the sun. They arrived back in Atlanta, pulling into their parking garage just after dark. Daryl praised him with a warmth that vibrated through his chest and allowed him to overlook how the hunter stashed his gun underneath some papers in the dashboard. “Couple more weekends like this, an’ you’ll be the one doin’ the savin’ next time some kid gets lost in the woods.”

Glenn smiled and nodded, leaning into the truck bed to gather their stuff. “Can I?” He asked, gesturing to the beloved crossbow. Daryl scooped it up and handed it over, shouldering most of their bags as Glenn looked over the weapon. They made their way up to their floor. “Think you could teach me to use this as well?” 

“It’ll take a while.” 

“I’m in.” Glenn grinned, letting Daryl unlock his door first and almost immediately running into his back as he followed him in. “Do you think I could-” 

“Well, it’s ‘bout damn time!” A raspy voice assaulted them both, and Glenn peered around Daryl’s shoulder to see an older, broad chested man with a weathered face, wearing a wife-beater and leaning against Daryl’s counter. “Was wonderin’ when ya’d finally make it back.”

“Merle.” Daryl breathed. “What are ya doin’ here?”

“Whatchew talkin’ ‘bout, boy? I live here, least accordin’ to my parole officer. Didn’t feel much like it when I had to break in through the window cuz ya didn’t leave me a key or come pick me up.” 

“Weren’t supposed to get out ‘til next month.” Daryl argued, finally kicking back into gear and unloading the bags into the middle of the nearly empty living room. 

“Let me go early on account of my good behavior.” Merle declared. Glenn wasn’t inclined to believe him even before he saw the pinched expression on Daryl’s face. “Tried callin’ ya on yer fancy new cell phone to come pick me up.” Said phone was sitting on the counter, useless for their camping trip. 

Daryl didn’t apologize, just shrugged. He took the crossbow from Glenn, and nodded towards the door. Glenn contemplated for about a half second saying he enjoyed it and would like to go again because the Daryl in the truck would have loved to hear it, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t sure the Daryl in the room wouldn’t be pissed by the same comment with all his tense muscles and careful movements. Glenn just nodded back and moved to the still open door. 

“Aintcha gonna introduce yerself?” 

“Ain’t nobody.” Daryl cut in. Glenn was surprised that the statement felt more like a relief than a put-down. One minute in a room with him, and Glenn was already eager to never see Merle again.

“I know you, baby brother. Ya don’t let nobody hold yer bow.” Merle commented, cocking his head to the side, perceptive eyes landing on Glenn and making his feet itch with the urge to flee. “You spent all weekend out with nobody, too?” 

“Fuck off, Merle. Just did some huntin’.” Daryl grunted before retrieving an envelope from a stack stuffed in a box and passing it to Glenn. “Can just slide it under yer door next time. Ain’t gotta come ‘round for it.”  

“Thanks.” Glenn muttered, taking his cue from Daryl and exiting before anything else could happen. The unopened envelope clutched in his hand was clearly addressed to Daryl, but he understood immediately why Daryl had given it to him, understood what Daryl was saying. ‘We’re not friends. We’re just neighbors.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to EpitomyofShyness for unending support and the incredible amount of time investment that's gone into brainstorming with me and editing this mess. I'd also like to give a shout-out to GenericDemon for the pre-reading, re-reading and continual enthusiasm for this project.


End file.
